


Love Comes with Blood

by violinia



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, FrUK, M/M, Supernatural Elements, Vampires, sorcery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-10 23:30:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 57,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3307256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violinia/pseuds/violinia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A small town in England is haunted by a terrible monster and the mayor has hired Mr. Kirkland to slay the evil creature! Except...he's never actually been successful slaying any monsters. Throughout his investigations, he begins to suspect a certain rich, Frenchman who lives in the forest just outside of town. What happens when the two cross paths? And who is Mr. Bonnefoy, exactly?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beast

**Author's Note:**

> This fan fiction was originally created from a drabble I wrote for someone last year. The setting of this fic is to be around Victorian times. Comments and critiques are welcomed and very much appreciated!! 
> 
> \- Katelyn

_Every person possesses some kind of fear; whether it_ _’_ _s the monster under the bed or the crazy politician in power. Fear is what drives life, drives the momentum to live on and to defeat the monster that haunts daily lives. If fear did not exist, there can be no strive to live on; humans would become wasteful beings on this earth, feasting upon this dying and withering land they call earth. Humans live off of fear, and monsters feed off of that fear. Fear, indeed, is a basic need of life._

_But, after all, there is a greater fear that lies deeper within our hearts, a fear that all of us choose to ignore. The fear isn_ _’_ _t of the beast lurking in the darkest corners, waiting for its next victim. The fear is not the fear that the best will not be defeated. Our deepest and darkest fear is that our fear will turn us into what we fear the most._

_The beast that truly exists within our souls._

* * *

 

“Are you _sure_ we’re safe here?” the woman asked, leaning forward. The carriage shook as the wheels turned over on the uneven cobblestoned road, and Arthur leaned back, smiling to himself.

“Positive,” he answered. “You’ve got nothing to be afraid of, Mrs. Smith, for I am a vampire slayer. There’s no other place in this entire town that’s safer than being right by my side.” Arthur added, proudly. The woman rolled her eyes.

“It’s not like you’ve _actually_ killed a vampire before, Mister Kirkland. My husband is dead, after all,” she said, leaning back. “And how can you be sure if vampires exist? If you can’t even protect the governor, why should have I hired you?” Arthur chuckled.

“Because I’m the only vampire hunter in town,” he answered, boldly. “Plus, my rates are pretty cheap compared to other hunters I know.” Mrs. Smith smiled and turned to look out the window.

“So, what’s the plan then? I suppose you’ve got some suspects in mind?” she asked, fiddling with her fan. Arthur smirked as he pulled out a tiny notebook from his pocket.

“I’ve looked at all of the records of the people who live here, and the attacks only started a month ago,” he explained, flipping through the pages.  “I’ve narrowed it down to three people who possibly could be the vampire, and that’s Mister Potter, the baker, Miss Sylvia, the new school teacher and Mister Bonnef—“ Mrs. Smith interrupted with a laugh.

“You can’t really think the killer is Mister Bonnefoy, Arthur,” Mrs. Smith muttered. “He’s a rich and honourable man; someone like him would never be something so vile.” Arthur looked up from his notebook, giving Mrs. Smith a stern glare.

“You should know by now, Mrs. Smith, that everything and everyone is a suspect until proven innocent. That includes you and Mister Bonnefoy.” he said. Mrs. Smith tilted her head in question, smiling at him. Arthur cleared his throat. “Of course, it’s very unlikely that you’re Mister Smith’s killer, ma’am. I’ve also never met Mister Bonnefoy, so I suppose I’ll take your word that he, indeed, is a good man.” Suddenly, the carriage came to a jolting stop, making Arthur and Mrs. Smith slip off of their seats.

“What the hell is going on?” she spat, pulling herself back up onto the seat. Arthur opened the door and slid out of the cabin. “What do you think you’re doing? That _thing_ could be out there! You don’t actually think you can kill it, do you?”

“I’m just going to see if the driver’s alright, ma’am.” Arthur called back, walking around to the front of the carriage. He slowly crept to the front, finding the driver missing. “Sir,” he called out. “Is everything alright, sir?” He then walked to the opposite side of the carriage, the driver being nowhere to be found. “Mrs. Smith, we need to hurry and—“

“ARTHUR!” she screamed, her voice echoing through the forest. Arthur ran back around to find her lying on the ground, the collar of her beautiful lace dress ripped, ripped flesh dangling from the exposed bone. Blood pooled around her body, soaking the ground underneath her corpse. Horrified, Arthur froze in his tracks at the sight of her, slowly reaching towards his belt for a weapon. Before he could turn around, someone grabbed his shoulders and sunk their teeth into his neck. Arthur cried out for help as his murderer released him as he fell to the ground beside Mrs. Smith. Whoever had bitten him knelt down beside him and brushed back his hair. He could hear faint humming next to his ear and the smell of sour breath. Arthur’s vision was quickly fading away; all he could see was the silhouette of a man hovering over him, smirking. As he felt the warmth escape him and his muscles stiffen, he heard the man muttering softly:

 " _Sleep; go to sleep, my pet._ _”_  

* * *

 

_I used to be a good boy. I used to love school; I loved reading all of the books about the world_ _’_ _s history, the old fairytales from olden days. I loved playing with my friends after school; we used to run around in the fields until the sunset and had to go home for supper time._

_Out of everything I loved, most of all I loved my Maman. She was surely a sweet and caring woman; she took care of me whenever I was ill or cut myself when I tripped over my own feet. My Maman worked at a bakery in the centre of the town, where she would bake the best pastries and sweets for everyone in the city, saving the best goodies for me at the end of the day. She could knit the warmest blankets and scarves as well and sell them for extra money so we could keep our small home by the end of the year. She was protective over me too; she never let me out of her sight or let anyone dare lay a hand on me._

_My father was never present in my childhood. I always asked my Maman about my father, but her reply was always:_ _‘_ Your Maman loves you very much, Francis.’ _Sooner or later, I gave up on finding out who my father really was and focused more on my school work and friends. We were poor, but it never truly mattered. My Maman and I had each other, that was what mattered the most in our lives. My life had been peaceful for the entirety of my childhood and like every other good boy, I hoped it would continue._

_But everything turned for the worst on my thirteenth birthday._

* * *

 

Everything hurt; from the tip-top of his head to the end of his toes, everything throbbed. The pain only grew worse as his eyes fluttered open. Arthur groaned, rubbing his head as his eyes focused, seeing a man silently admiring him as he leaned over the couch, his hair falling over his shoulders ever so slightly. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re absolutely  _adorable_ when you’re asleep?” he mused. 

"Has anyone ever told you that it’s rude and creepy that you watch people in their sleep?" Arthur snapped. The man chuckled, standing up straight and walked around the couch. 

"You’re my pet, so why wouldn’t I watch you sleep?" He paused, smiling to himself.

"I am no one’s pet!" Arthur shouted. He flinched at his own voice, his head throbbing even more. "I’m a bloody human being, not some freakish animal!" The mysterious man raised his eyebrows. 

"Are you sure about that, Arthur?" he replied, sitting down beside him. He then frowned. "The pain should go away in a few more hours. I’m sorry, I didn’t want this to be painful for you. Turning is never easy." Arthur scowled. 

"What the hell did you do to me? And how do you know my name?!" he hissed, clenching his fists. The Frenchman leaned back, letting his arms rest on the back of the couch, pulling out a small wallet, waving it in Arthur’s face.

"I was hungry," he answered, glancing away. He tossed the wallet towards the other. "And you happened to be the closest prey near me." 

"You were  _hungry_. Because that’s a legitimate excuse.”

"It’s funny, I usually don’t like to prey on people like you, but I couldn’t resist this time around," he continued. "And usually I don’t let them live, because I know the turn is so painful…" 

"Don’t ignore me!" Arthur yelled. "Tell me what you did to me! Or there’ll be consequences to pay!" The other laughed, shaking his head. 

"Pardon me, I’m a terrible host," he replied. "Could I get you something to drink?" Arthur glared at him as he stood up and escorted himself out of the room. In a few minutes, he returned with two wine glasses filled to the brim with a velvety red liquid, gently placing them on the table by the couch. "You must be thirsty; please, feast." 

"Look, I don’t know who you think you are but—" Arthur began. 

"Francis; my name’s Francis. In case you wanted to know." He gestured to the two glasses. "Please, you’re going to starve yourself if you don’t drink." Arthur sighed and relented, snatching a glass off of the table. He took a small sip, grimacing as he swallowed.

"I’m sorry to say this, but, I think your wine has turned to vinegar." he mumbled. Francis chuckled. 

"It’s not wine, my dear Arthur." Francis answered. 

"You’re pulling my leg. If it’s not wine, then what—" 

"It’s the rest of what I could salvage from last week’s prey," Francis continued. Arthur gave him a terrified look. "The woman who was with you that night," He then froze, the glass slipping out of his fingers. The red liquid splattered all over the rug as Arthur stumbled over himself as he tried to get away. "I know it’s a disappointment right now, but rest assured, blood tastes much better when it’s fresh." 

“ _You_ _’_ _re_ the vampire!” Arthur shouted. “You’re the vampire the town’s been hunting all these months! You vile person! Y-you’re going to pay for all the lives you’ve taken for your own pleasures!” 

"Including yours?" Francis asked, standing up. Arthur glared at him, backing away. He bumped into the wall behind him, feeling trapped. Francis took the other glass that was resting on the table and handed it to the other, smiling. "You know, the reason why I didn’t just kill you was because I couldn’t let your pretty little face go to waste. I had to keep it, just for me." He leaned closer, pulling down Arthur’s shirt collar and exposing his wound. Pulling him closer, Francis hid his face in Arthur’s neck, chuckling. "Your human scent still lingers; it drives me crazy, do you know that?" He kissed him, nibbling on his lip a bit. Arthur pushed him away. "I lose control…"

"I demand that you let me leave at once!” he hissed. Francis sighed. 

"Now, now, I cannot allow that," he muttered. "You’re going to get yourself killed if you run away from your new master." Arthur gulped; did he use some kind of enchantment when he kissed him? It was unfair for a vampire to be this attractive; they’re supposed to be ugly, right? Feared monsters with translucent skin, bald heads and pointy teeth? "Ah, you are confused, no?" Francis kissed him again, letting his arm snake around Arthur, pulling him closer. "Your lips taste so sweet, like a virgin’s blood." he murmured, smirking.  

"I hate you," Arthur said. Francis shook his head. “I am _nothing_ like you.”

"No, you’re just hungry," he answered, lifting the glass to Arthur’s lips. "We’ll hunt later, but for now, drink as much as you can," Francis mused, letting his free hand caress Arthur’s cheek. "My pet.”


	2. Hunger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just for some clarification, anything in italics are to be a flashback of a character's life (in this case, it will be Francis'). There is some controversy in this chapter, and feel free to comment and critique on it; I enjoy reading comments very much and try to reply to all of them if I can. Comments and critiques are welcomed and very much appreciated!!   
> -Katelyn

_I will never be proud of my first kill._

_She was my age; young, beautiful, but quiet. I knew her well because I was her only friend; she attended the small Catholic school for girls in our town, helping the townspeople as much as she could and there wasn_ _’_ _t a church mass she never missed. The two of us would sit in the fields, talking and making flower crowns for each other. It wasn_ _’_ _t until I grew older when I realised that I was falling in love with her; I wanted to run my hands through her short, silky hair and kiss her plump red lips. I still remember how beautiful she looked in the sunlight to this day and how she smelled of honey and blossoms._

_I never meant to kill her._

_“_ _Francis,_ _”_ _Maman called after me. I bent over to tie my shoes, jumping ever so often to keep my balance._ _“_ _I_ _’_ _m going to be working late at the bakery today; will you be alright walking home all by yourself?_ _”_

_“_ _Yes, Maman._ _”_ _I hollered back. She came over to me, letting her hand touch my forehead. She frowned._

_“_ _Your fever still hasn_ _’_ _t let up; are you sure you_ _’_ _re feeling better today?_ _”_ _she asked, stepping back I had been sick for several weeks after my birthday; I had had a persistent fever, my skin had grown pale and I lost my appetite, occasionally throwing up any food my Maman forced me to eat. But on that day, I was determined to go into town and go to school. It had been too long since I had seen her._

_“_ _Yes, Maman,_ _”_ _I answered._ _“_ _I feel fine._ _”_ _She sighed._

_“_ _Who is she?_ _”_ _she asked, smiling slightly._

_“_ _Huh?_ _”_

_"_ _Don_ _’_ _t give me that, Francis. I_ _’_ _ve been here long enough to see what a boy looks like when he likes a girl._ _”_ _she teased._ _“_ _Come on now, what_ _’_ _s her name?_ _”_ _I hesitated, standing upright._

_"Jeanne._ _”_ _I answered, turning away. Maman chuckled._

_“_ _Such a beautiful name,_ _”_ _she replied, setting her apron on the table._ _“_ _Does she attend the boarding school?_ _”_ _I nodded, pulling on my coat. I opened the door, ready to hurry off to school when my Maman pulled me back._ _“_ _Be careful, Francis. Love is a wonderful feeling, but it_ _’_ _s also dangerous. It can cause us to lose control._ _”_ _She kissed my forehead and gave me a small push, reassuring me to walk off._ _“_ _I love you very much, sweetheart,_ _”_ _she added._ _“_ _And be a good boy._ _”_

* * *

 

Arthur stormed off into the entrance corridor, snatching his coat off of the rack and shrugging it on. “I am not your _pet_ and I am most certainly not a vampire! I’m a human being and I’m going back to my home!” he shouted, marching off over to the door. “Good day.”

“I wouldn’t leave this house if I were you,” Francis said, pulling him back. “Not only will you get lost in the forest, but you’ll lose your mind once you’re with a human.”

“I _am_ human, now get your hands off me!” Arthur hissed. Francis backed away, gently pulling his hand away as Arthur opened the mansion door.

“You have to trust me, Arthur. I know what I’m talking about!” he murmured.

“I said good day!” Arthur hollered over his shoulder, walking out into the vast forest. It was already dark, darker than usual because of the density of the trees surrounding him and the pathway. He of course had no idea where he was going, but he could see the dim lights in the distance from the town and followed his gut reaction. As he drew closer to the town, there was a sweet aroma flowing with the wind as he walked, making his mouth water. “Everything in the town closes by six, including the bakery,” Arthur murmured to himself. “I wonder if Mister Potter made a plethora of bread loaves today and the smell is just lingering. Or maybe I’m extra sensitive, since I’ve been missing for only God knows how long.” The pathway led to the centre of the town and there was no one in sight, except for Miss Sylvia, who was carrying a paper bag filled with fresh vegetables. She stopped by the fountain where Arthur had just passed, and smiled.

“Mister Kirkland, you’re alright!” she claimed, with a bright grin. “We were all wondering what had happened to you on the night you were escorting Mrs. Smith to her manor.” Arthur nodded, shrugging.

“Yes, yes, I’m quite alright,” he replied, rubbing his neck. “I am feeling a bit unwell but, I’m sure it’s just a minor illness.” Sylvia frowned.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” she said. “Perhaps I should just leave you be, then. I’m sure I can find someone else to escort me home. I haven’t felt safe since I heard that there might be a vampire lurking about in this town.” She laughed at herself. “I sure picked the wrong town to be a teacher.”

“I can still escort you home if you’d like.” Arthur offered. “It’s not a major problem for me.” Sylvia smiled.

“That’d be lovely, Mister Kirkland, if you don’t mind.” she said.

“Please, call me Arthur. There’s no need to be so formal.” Sylvia nodded, adjusting her bag to her other hip.

“My house isn’t too far from here; it’s just out in the forest a bit.” she explained, pointing at the alley between two buildings. “We can take the short cut there; it’ll be quicker.” Arthur nodded, following her lead as she took the steps forward and stepped into the dark alley. The sweet scent the young gentleman smelled earlier was still in the air, stronger as he walked behind Sylvia as she walked with caution. “Do you think we should’ve taken the longer route instead?” Arthur shook his head. He couldn’t bear to open his mouth and speak; his head felt as if it were spinning around and around as he walked, the pounding in his sinuses constantly drumming a pulsating beat. Something was irritating him, as if he was being possessed, and Arthur wasn’t sure how to handle it all. “Arthur? Are you alright?” Sylvia asked, stopping. “You look awfully pale; you should go home and get some rest. I think I’ll be fine from her—“

“A-are you wearing…perfume, Sylvia?” Arthur asked. “You smell…nice. Exquisite, in fact.” Sylvia tilted her head to the side in question.

“No, I’m not wearing any perfume. Actually, perfume usually bothers my nose; it makes me sneeze nonstop.” she answered. “Arthur, I insist, you should go home. I’ll be fine.”

“I can take you home, don’t mind me,” Arthur said, licking his lips. “You wouldn’t mind giving me dinner when we arrive at your home?” Sylvia shrugged.

“I’d be happy to fix you supper, if you’re hungry.” she offered. Arthur smirked, his hands shaking as he lifted the up towards her neck.

“Oh, I’m very hungry; starving, in fact.” he whispered. Sylvia took a step back, staring at him in fear.

“M-mister Kirkland, you’re making me uncomfo—“ she began.

“Your scent…it’s so intoxicating. Are you sure that you’re not wearing any perfume?” he continued, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her close. Sylvia began smacking him and pushing him away from her.

“Get your hands off of me!” she screamed. She attempted to run, but Arthur had already grabbed her arm and pulled her back, almost yanking her arm out of her socket. Sylvia continued to scream, in fear and in pain, as she fell to the ground, trying to kick the starving young vampire away.

“You shouldn’t scream, Sylvia,” he teased, kneeling down. He put his hand over mouth and grinned, revealing his new and sharp fangs. “People will actually think you’re scared.” She squirmed underneath him, trying her best to push and kick him away, but he was far too strong. Arthur ripped the collar on her dress and stared at her bare neck, chuckling to himself. “I’m so hungry…” he repeated in a hushed voice. He opened his mouth wide, ignoring Sylvia’s last please and sunk his teeth into her flesh. Blinded by hunger, he tore her skin open with his fangs and sucked the blood that was racing down her neck and dress. He had never tasted something so sweet in his life; he continued to drink and drink for several minutes until there was nothing left of her.

* * *

 

_After school, Jeanne and I always met each other by the fountain in front of the church. On this day, it was no different; I pushed my peers in a rush to be the first at the fountain. I always ignored the strange looks I got from people I clumsily bumped into; the town_ _’_ _s people never really like me, which was why Jeanne was so important to me. She saw the true kindness in me, despite whatever rumours were spread across the town about me._

_“_ _Beat you._ _”_ _Jeanne said, with a smile. She was sitting on the fountain_ _’_ _s edge, crossing her arms against her chest and swinging her legs a bit. I sighed and laughed, nodding._

_“_ _You always beat me here._ _”_ _I replied, joking. I gave her a smirk._ _“_ _I couldn_ _’_ _t stop thinking of you today._ _”_ _Jeanne raised her eyebrows slightly as she stood up._

_“_ _Is that so?_ _”_ _she asked._ _“_ _I think you told me that the last time we saw each other, Francis._ _”_

_“_ _You_ _’_ _re special to me, Jeanne. Naturally, I would think of you often._ _”_ _I muttered. She grinned, taking my hand._

_“_ _I thought of you as well,_ _”_ _she whispered._ _“_ _Don_ _’_ _t get so defensive,_ _”_ _She nodded her head towards the path we usually took to our hide out._ _“_ _Shall we go?_ _”_ _I linked my arm with hers, gesturing my arm in front of me._

_“_ _After you, my lady._ _”_ _I said, teasingly. Jeanne giggled as we walked across the town, turning on the pathway to the fields we always loved to play. The only difference was that I hoped to get my first kiss that day and that Jeanne would be forever mine. We reached the top of the hill and I lied down in the soft grass, sighing in relief._ _“_ _This is my favourite place to be; here on the top of this hill with you, Jeanne._ _”_

_“_ _It_ _’_ _s one of my favourite places too._ _”_ _Jeanne replied, sitting down next to me._ _“_ _Your mother told me that you_ _’_ _ve been sick for the past few weeks._ _”_

_"And?_ _”_ _I asked._ _“_ _I_ _’_ _m much better now, see?_ _”_ _I turned towards her, pointing to my face and smiled._ _“_ _Much better._ _”_ _Jeanne laughed, shaking her head._

_“_ _Yes, I see that._ _”_ _she murmured._ _“_ _The sunset is beautiful, no?_ _”_ _I sat up, supporting my weight on my elbows and nodded in agreement. We continued to sit on top of that hill for several minutes, an hour at the least, watching the sun set and the sky turn to dusk before Jeanne sighed._ _“_ _The two of us should get home; I know Sister Margaret is looking for me right now._ _”_

_“_ _My Maman is probably on her way home right now,_ _”_ _I replied._ _“_ _You know how much she hates it when I_ _’_ _m not home._ _”_ _Jeanne chuckled, standing up._

_“_ _Will I see you tomorrow?_ _”_ _she asked, brushing back a small strand of hair behind her ear. I rose to my feet, stepping closer to her. I could smell her perfume, the aroma of honey and blossoms, a sweet fragrance I could never forget. I smirked._

_“_ _It depends; will you give me a kiss?_ _”_ _Jeanne_ _’_ _s eyes widened, her cheeks turning pink, as she glared at me._ _“_ _It doesn_ _’_ _t have to be a sincere kiss._ _”_ _She rolled her eyes and tugged on my shirt, pressing her plump lips against mine._

_It was after then, I was never the same again._

* * *

 

Arthur rolled back onto his heels, looking at her shriveled body, noticing how unrecognizable she was. He couldn’t stop shaking; his hands trembling violently as he stared at the corpse before him.  _Did I really do this?_ Arthur asked himself, trying to pull himself together.  _Did I really kill her?_ He heard footsteps approaching him behind him, the brilliant sound echoing off of the abandoned buildings surrounding him. “Oh Arthur,” a disappointed voice murmured. “Did you have to bite her head off?” Francis knelt beside him, draping his arm around Arthur’s shoulders. 

"I was… _so_ hungry." Arthur answered, still shaking. Francis smirked. 

"I know you were, but you didn’t have to be so brutal," Francis replied. "Look at her! You sucked her dry; she looks like a poor raisin!" Francis sighed. "I warned you about leaving the mansion without my supervision; now look at what you’ve done. An innocent woman was killed." He carefully pulled an unused handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to the young vampire. "Come on now, clean yourself up. I need to get you home before any civilians catch us." 

"I’m not going home with you! Most certainly not!" Arthur hissed, bearing his fangs a little. Francis patted his head, chuckling. 

"Now, now, don’t bear your fangs at your master. You can’t go home all by yourself, not in this state," Francis frowned, noticing how much Arthur was trembling. "Poor thing, you’re in shock of it all, aren’t you?" He shrugged his cloak off and wrapped it around Arthur, kissing his forehead. "Come on now; I have a supply of blood at home for you. You can finish satisfying yourself there." Arthur glared at him, his glowing eyes dimming as he began to relax in Francis’ arms. Francis helped him stand up and let Arthur lean against him as they slowly walked back into the dense forest where the Frenchman’s mansion rested. As soon as they stepped inside, Arthur collapsed on the couch, still clinging to the cloak that was wrapped around him. 

"How long will I be like this?" Arthur mumbled, keeping his head hung low. Francis pulled the cork out of the bottle he was holding and poured the velvety red liquid into the glass before his lover. 

"A week or so," he answered. "Once your hunger is completely satisfied, you won’t make such rash, irresponsible actions." Arthur took the glass from him and gulped down the blood as quickly as he could. He then held out the glass, silently begging for more. Francis smirked, happy to fill the glass again. "However, the turning process may go faster if…"

"If what?" Arthur interrupted. 

"Let me finish!" Francis snapped. "It might go faster if you have some of my blood," Arthur narrowed his eyes, letting his lips rest against the cool glass. "Don’t worry, you can’t kill me. It’s impossible." Suddenly, the glass slipped from Arthur’s hand as he quickly grabbed Francis by the shoulders, biting the crook of his neck in desperation. Francis winced before letting out a soft moan, letting his hand and fingers brush through Arthur’s short, messy hair. "You don’t have to bite so hard." he whispered. Arthur stepped back. 

"Sorry," he apologised, wiping his mouth. "I was just…excited." Francis smiled, lifting Arthur’s chin with his index finger. 

"No apology needed," he said, pressing his lips against his once more. His smile turned into a sly smirk as the thought of having Arthur’s scent all over his bed sheets…"Shall we continue this upstairs?"

* * *

 

_“_ _Jeanne! Jeanne, wake up! Please!_ _”_ _I cried, shaking her cold, lifeless body._ _“_ _Jeanne! This isn_ _’_ _t a joke, wake up!_ _”_ _I knew that my screaming would cause attention if anyone happened to be nearby in that moment, but I couldn_ _’_ _t stop myself. I refused to believe that I had_ killed _my best friend and love._ _“_ _Jeanne! Come on, you have to wake up now. Sister Margaret is going to be wondering where you are! Please Jeanne, just open your eyes. For me?_ _”_

_“_ _Francis?_ _”_

_I turned around to see my Maman standing behind me, worried._ _“_ _Francis, sweetheart, I was so worried about where you had gone! I thought I lost you!_ _”_ _she scolded, walking towards me. She looked at me with such anger as she approached where I was sitting, blocking her from seeing Jeanne_ _’_ _s body._ _“_ _How many times do I have to tell you to come home right away from schoo_ _—“_ _She froze. The anger the filled her eyes were gone as she stared at Jeanne_ _’_ _s body, then to me, tears racing down my cheeks and crusted blood around my mouth._

_“_ _Maman_ _…”_ _I sobbed._ _“_ _She won_ _’_ _t wake up. Why won_ _’_ _t she wake up, Maman?_ _”_ _Maman shook her head in shock, grabbing my arm and pulling me away from her._

_“_ _Come on, Francis, we need to leave._ _”_ _Was all she kept repeating as I constantly pushed her away from me._

_“_ _I can_ _’_ _t just leave her here! I can_ _’_ _t!_ _”_ _I cried, pulling my arm away from my Maman_ _’_ _s grasp._

_“_ _Francis, listen to me,_ _”_ _she hissed, pulling me close. She brushed my hair with her palm, kissing my forehead._ _“_ _I know you_ _’_ _re scared and I know you_ _’_ _re upset about your friend, but we need to leave right now before someone finds you like this. I_ _’_ _ll explain everything later._ _”_

_"But Jeanne_ _…”_ _I began, looking over my shoulder._

_“_ _She_ _’_ _s dead, Francis. You have to let her go._ _”_ _There were dim lights coming from the forest and I could hear Sister Margaret calling Jeanne_ _’_ _s name._ _“_ _Come on Francis, we need to leave!_ _”_ _My Maman began dragging me along with her as I stared back at Jeanne_ _’_ _s corpse, praying that she was somewhere safe._

_Forever safe from the beast inside of me._


	3. Morals

_Maman slammed the door behind us once we reached the house and locked it. She still kept a forceful grip on my arm, dragging me along with her upstairs. I was crying, sobbing softly as I watched my Maman soak a washcloth in cold water and offer it to me._ _“_ _Clean yourself up, now._ _”_ _she said, gently. She patted my head as she stepped out of the bathroom. I began wiping my mouth and chin with the cloth, shivering a bit as the frigid material touched my skin. I heard Maman rummaging through her belongings in her bedroom, muttering to herself nonstop. As I waited for her return, I stared at my reflection in the mirror, disgusted at myself. There were bloodstains scattered about on my shirt, my eyes were bloodshot from crying and I attempted to soften my sobs, I caught glimpses of my new, sharp fangs in my mouth. Angry, I lifted my fist in the air, ready to break the mirror into pieces with a single swing when I heard my Maman_ _’_ _s voice behind me._ _“_ _Francis, could you come here, please?_ _”_ _she called, her voice soft and gentle. I obeyed her, slowly making my way to her bedroom._

_A small wooden chest sat on her bed to her right; I stared at it as she patted the spot to her left, encouraging me to sit down. I shook my head, backing away._ _“_ _If I sit near you, I_ _’_ _ll hurt you as well._ _”_ _I muttered, leaning against the door frame._

_“_ _You won_ _’_ _t,_ _”_ _she replied._ _“_ _Because now you know how to fight temptation._ _”_ _When I refused to move, she gave me a stern glare. I relented and cautiously sat next to her, letting her wrap her arms around my shoulders and kiss my forehead._ _“_ _I was hoping this day would never come, but it seems that life is always full of surprises._ _”_

_“_ _What_ _’_ _s in the box?_ _”_ _I asked, not bothering to turn towards her. She sighed, sadly, and folded her hands in her lap._

_“_ _Francis,_ _”_ _she whispered._ _“_ _Today is the day I will tell you about your father._ _”_

* * *

 

Arthur opened his eyes to see the sun’s light trickling in from the window that sat above the bed. He slowly sat up, groaning and wincing in pain from his still raw wound on his neck. He touched it gently, only to draw in a quick breath from the dreadful pain. “Are you alright?” Francis asked, softly. He reached up to touch Arthur’s cheek, smiling. “It’s nice to have someone by my side; someone who’s sweet and kind.”

“That is not me at all,” Arthur grumbled. “Not anymore, at least.” Francis rolled over, wrapping his arms around his lover’s waist, kissing his hipline.

“That’s because you’re still in mid-transformation, my pet.” he said. “You’re just irritable.”

“Speaking of which, is this blasted bite wound going to heal? It burns like hell.” Arthur questioned, touching his neck again. Francis smacked Arthur’s hand away, chuckling.

“It won’t if you keep touching it like that!” he teased, shifting himself so he could see the mark. “It’ll heal in time; a few more days at the very least.” Arthur furrowed his brow.

“You’ve turned others before, then?” he asked. Francis smirked.

“No, you’re the first, and last.” he replied, pulling away.

“Then how do you know all of this?”

“My father taught me,” Francis clarified. He slid off the bed and moved over to the dresser. “He turned a few people in his time. I owe him everything for what I know now.”

“Your father’s a vampire? So, what, you’re half vampire then?” Arthur asked, leaning back.

“Something like that; my Maman thought I was human for thirteen years, however.” Francis continued.

“Because sucking blood is a completely normal human trait.” Arthur joked.

“I thought I was human too, because it was all I knew at the time.” Francis pulled a drawer open, picking out a pair of trousers and slipped into them. “Things obviously changed when I…”

“Killed someone.” The Brit guessed.

“Yes,” Francis murmured. “I killed someone whom I dearly loved.” Arthur cleared his throat, pushing the blankets back.

“Your mother?”

“No,” Francis closed the drawer. “Jeanne.” As he made his way over to the closet, he chuckled to himself. “You know, when I saw you at a very quick glance, I thought you kinda looked like her.”

“You thought I was a woman?!” Arthur hissed.

“I _said_ at a very quick glance,” Francis reiterated. “Then I noticed your eyebrows and well…”

“What’s wrong with my eyebrows?!”

“Nothing,” Francis glanced over his shoulder, smirking. “They’re unique, is all.” he added, buttoning his shirt. “Besides, the two of us were young when she died.” Arthur sighed, standing up.

“Where are you off to?” he muttered, picking up his trousers that were still lying on the floor. Francis stepped in front of the mirror and smiled in pride.

“I have a town meeting to get to.” he answered, tying on a tie.

“Oh, let me come with you!” Arthur cheered.

“No! It’s too dangerous for you _and_ the townspeople” Francis snapped. “You are to stay here and watch the house.” Arthur scowled at him, folding his arms across his bare chest.

“People are going to start wondering where I’ve gone!” he shouted. “You can’t keep me prisoner!”

“And I can’t let you go on a rampage once you step foot into city hall and get a whiff of human scent!” Francis hissed, stepping closer to the other. “You’ll stay here and I’ll bring you supper. Deal?” Arthur hesitated, licking his lips a little before answering.

“Deal,” he agreed, pushing past Francis to the doorway. “Just make sure it’s not someone innocent, like Sylvia.”

“Oh, my victims are never innocent,” the Frenchman muttered. “They always deserve the fates they are given. Besides, I can’t let you go hungry. A hungry vampire is a dangerous one.” He sighed, patting Arthur’s shoulder. “I should be home by six, tonight. You can be patient for that long, yes?” He kissed his shoulders, then brushed his lips against Arthur’s. “Be a good little vampire, now.”

* * *

 

_“_ _You never want to talk about Papa._ _”_ _I said, hoarsely. Maman nodded, blinking quickly._

_“_ _That_ _’_ _s because it hurts my heart too much._ _”_ _she answered, unlocking the chest. Inside, there were several envelopes and an old, folded, wrinkly map. She let her hands trace the outside of the box, taking a deep breath._ _“_ _These are the letters your Papa has written to me over the years,_ _”_ _She turned to face me, giving me a sad smile._ _“_ _Before I tell you anything, Francis, I need you to know and understand that your father is a good man._ _”_ _I nodded, taking an envelope out of the box. Maman leaned back, closing her eyes and exhaled._ _“_ _Before I met your father, I was living on my own because my father had just passed away. I was only nineteen at the time._ _Now,_ _your father, Jacques, was just passing by. He wouldn_ _’_ _t have stayed as long as he did if I hadn_ _’_ _t offered him a room here. He was a bit strange then, your father, but it didn_ _’_ _t matter; he was the most handsome man I_ _’_ _ve ever laid my eyes on. You look just like him, to be exact,_ _”_ _She gave me another smile, letting her hand rest on my lap._ _“_ _To make a long story short, your father and I fell in love. Jacques wanted me to leave the town with him, but I couldn_ _’_ _t bring myself to. He always wanted to run away and I never knew why, then. Sooner or later, I began working at the bakery while he was searching for a job in town._

_“_ _Suddenly, your father started acting funny. He became irritable and was always complaining about how hungry he was. I cooked him food but he always refused to eat, or, he would throw it all back up. I hated seeing him in pain, but there was nothing I could do._ _”_ _She took the envelope I was holding and carefully placed it back into that box._ _“_ _Until, I found out that I was pregnant with you. I was thrilled and knew that the news would surely cheer up your father, sick or not. When I arrived home that day, I heard crying coming from behind the house. I slowly walked to the back and peered around the corner to find your father sobbing over a shriveled corpse._

_“’_ _I_ _’_ _m so sorry,_ _’_ _your father repeated over and over again. I never quite knew who it was he killed, exactly, but I knew he didn_ _’_ _t mean to do what he had done. Not by the way he reacted. In that moment, everything suddenly made sense, and I told your father that I was pregnant. For a moment, he was happy, but then he said that he needed to leave. He claimed that if he stayed, he would only end up hurting me more._ _‘_ _I can_ _’_ _t hurt the woman I love. Not again._ _’_ _He said. So, he left. And we_ _’_ _ve been writing letters ever since._ _”_

_“_ _That_ _’_ _s it? He just left you?_ _”_ _I muttered, getting angry._ _“_ _How is he a good man, Maman?! He killed someone in the backyard and left you alone with me!_ _”_ _She shook her head._

_“_ _I wish I could tell you more, Francis. You don_ _’_ _t know him like I do._ _”_ _she whispered, handing me the folded map._ _“_ _But you will soon._ _”_ _I unfolded that paper and stared at the outlined paths. Maman pointed to a tiny square, which was supposed to be our house, and traced the lines._ _“_ _Your father told me that if you ever showed signs of being a vampire, I was to send you to him immediately._ _”_

_“_ _I_ _’_ _m not leaving you, Maman._ _”_ _I said, placing the map back into the chest._

_“_ _But you must go, Francis._ _”_ _she replied._ _“_ _If you stay here, people will kill you._ _”_

_“_ _Then let them!_ _”_ _I snapped._ _“_ _I deserve to die after what I did to my only friend in this village!_ _”_ _Maman frowned._

_“_ _Don_ _’_ _t say that, Francis. I_ _’_ _m not going to let anyone take away my beloved son._ _”_ _she whispered._

_“_ _But you_ _’_ _d let Jacques take me away from you?_ _”_

_“_ _He_ _’_ _s your father and you_ _’_ _ll be safe with him!_ _”_

_“_ _I killed someone, Maman; isn_ _’_ _t that enough reason to kill me?! And what about Jacques? How many people do you think he_ _’_ _s killed in his lifetime?_ _”_

_“_ _Francis,_ _”_ _she hissed, grabbing my shoulders with a tightening grip._ _“_ _Why does the wolf kill the sheep?_ _”_ _I stared back at her, blankly._ _“_ _Because he is hungry, yes? Do the other wolves accuse him of murder? Does the wolf feel remorse?_ _”_

_“_ _No, but_ _…”_

_“_ _You feel terrible because I raised you to believe you were human._ I _believed you were human. But now, you know that you are no longer a human. There_ _’_ _s a different set of morals applied to your kind. And it is up to you to decide what those morals are._ _”_ _I paused, letting her words sink in._

_“_ _But we_ _’_ _re smarter than wolves and sheep._ _”_ _I muttered._

_“_ _Are we_ really _, Francis?_ _”_ _She smiled, patting my knee._ _“_ _You_ _’_ _re not a monster, Francis. There_ _’_ _s always beauty behind the beast, and there_ _’_ _s a beast behind the beauty._ _”_

_“_ _What_ _’_ _s that got to do with anything?_ _”_ _Maman smiled._

_“_ _You have to see the difference between the two; you are a gentle and caring person, Francis. Could a monster be any of those things?_ _”_ _I shook my head, slowly, looking down._ _“_ _Good,_ _”_ _she handed the map to me again and kissed my forehead._ _“_ _Then off to your father_ _’_ _s you shall go._ _”_

* * *

 

Francis stepped into the rather large room of the city hall, quickly scanning the room to find an empty seat. “Ah, Mister Bonnefoy,” Mrs. Owens, the woman who owned the pottery shop in the village, announced “Fashionably late as usual?” The Frenchman chuckled.

“So it seems.” he replied, taking a seat in the back. Mrs. Owens stood at the podium, letting her fingers tap against the wood.

“Today, we are going to discuss the matters of crisis in our own.” she began, brushing a frizzy lock of red hair behind her ear. “Our mayor and his wife were brutally murdered in the past few weeks. Mister Smith’s body was found on the riverbank just last week, his body shriveled up as if the blood was sucked right out of him. His wife was found in the town’s centre in the same condition. Mister Arthur Kirkland, the man who claims to use magic and was going to deal with this killer, has gone missing since Mrs. Smith’s murder.”

“Don’t forget about my dear Sylvia’s murder from last night as well!” an elderly woman cried out. Mrs. Owens nodded.

“Yes, Sylvia was found last night, in the same condition as previous victims, in a back alley with her groceries scattered about.” she added. “This meeting is not only to address the matter of finding a new mayor, but to address the issue that we’ve got a murderer on our hands.” Murmurs of panic filled the room, young mothers held their children close as their husbands began shouting.

“I say Arthur is a prime suspect!” a man hollered.

“We can’t come to conclusions! For all we know, Mister Kirkland could be being held captive of this killer. Tortured, even.” Mrs. Owens argued. “Our goal, as the citizens of this town, is to find the killer and find Arthur.” Francis raised his hand.

“And a mayor, Mrs. Owens? We wouldn’t want the town falling into more chaos, would we?” he announced.

“Yes, Mister Bonnefoy is right; our main focus should be to find a mayor.” Someone agreed. Mrs. Owens shrugged.

“Then who’s willing to be on the ballot?” she proposed. Silence filled the hall as people shifted awkwardly in their chairs, coughing. “Come now, we can’t have an empty ballot, can we? We can put a box near the mayor’s office and you can leave names on slips of paper? Now, about the killer…”

“Perhaps we should hire a proper detective? Our police here are _terrible_! They wouldn’t even be able to find who stole the cookies from the cookie jar!” a woman suggested.

“The last I spoke with Arthur, he claimed the killer to be a vampire,” another man said. “If that’s true, a detective will be of no use. We need to find another person of magic, a vampire slayer!”

“You can’t _really_ believe in folklore, Harold?! Everyone knows vampires only exist in fiction!” someone teased. “A proper detective will do just fine!”

“Where do we find a detective, then?”

“London, is my best bet. Everything decent comes from London.”

“I am telling you, we need a vampire hunter!”

“Oh shut it, Harold! We all know Arthur Kirkland was partially crazy anyway! The man constantly lived in a fantasy!”

“Enough!” Mrs. Owens hollered. “It is wrong to speak of those who are not here,” She looked around the room as she stepped away from the podium. “Mister Kirkland could be dead for all we know.” Francis did his best to hide his sly smirk as the townspeople continued to argue, yelling and screaming at each other about finding a detective. Mrs. Owens began pounding her fist on the podium, hoping to get everyone’s panic to halt; but it was of no use. After several minutes of endless bantering, Francis stood up and headed for the door. Surprisingly, the people who sat near him took notice, and began hushing the others. In a matter of seconds, the room was silent again, and all eyes were on Francis.

“Francis,” Mrs. Owens’ voice echoed in the hall. “Do you have any suggestions?”

“Form a committee.” he answered, turning around just slightly to face everyone. “Form a committee to organise the mayor election and another one to hire a detective. That’s it.”

“Would you be willing to be in charge of these committees, Francis?” Mrs. Owens offered.

“I’d be willing to help organise the mayor election committee,” Francis replied, simply. “For I can only commit to one; I also know a few people myself who might be willing to run on the ballot. Good people, in fact.” Mrs. Owens nodded, writing the information down on a notepad. “I’d be willing to write them letters and make arrangements for their visits, if necessary.” People began murmuring to each other, laughing this time, and carrying about.

“What a kind man!” an elderly woman stated. “He should be the one running this meeting!”

“He could be the mayor!”

“Then it is settled,” Mrs. Owens announced. “Mister Bonnefoy will take care of finding a mayor. Is anyone interested in finding a proper detective?” A few hands slowly crept up in the air, people standing up slightly to see who the brave faces were. “Good; you three will run the committee than. Before we all leave, I think it’s best and safe to set a curfew at sundown until this killer situation is sorted out.” The townspeople grumbled in agreement, begrudgingly. As the meeting continued to go on, Francis left the hall with a confident smile curled around the corners of his lips.

* * *

 

_“_ _I_ _’_ _ve packed clothing and some blood for you and your travels,_ _”_ _Maman said, helping me put my coat on._ _“_ _Your father told me that this route is the safest route; it strays from any nearby towns so you won_ _’_ _t be tempted to kill again. The trip should only take two or three days._ _”_

_“_ _Please don_ _’_ _t make me go._ _”_ _I pleaded._ _“_ _I can learn to control myself without leaving!_ _”_ _Maman shook her head._

_“_ _Your father will take good care of you, Francis._ _”_ _she whispered, blinking back tears._ _“_ _When you_ _’_ _re all grown up, you may come back._ _”_ _She kissed my forehead._ _“_ _Be a good boy, dear._ _”_

_“_ _I_ _’_ _m not a good boy, Maman. Not anymore._ _”_ _I muttered, hugging her tightly._

_“Francis, what did I tell you? What happened changed nothing.” she replied. “You will always be a good boy to me.” She pushed my away, revealing a soft, sad smile as tears rolled down her cheeks. “No go and remember,” she added as I began walking away. “Your Maman always loves you.”_


	4. Drink

_The voyage to my father_ _’_ _s_ _‘_ _so called_ _’_ _estate was a challenge; the path I followed forced me through the woods so I would not cross any villages and be tempted to kill. My Maman had been right, two days had passed before I arrived to an open area of land where a rather large house sat on a hill. I stood at the edge of the forest, gazing up the sight that was set ahead of me. The house I had grew up in with my Maman was small and cozy compared to this giant new home. I took a deep breath before stepping down the steep hill towards my father_ _’_ _s home._

_I slowly walked the stone pathway to the front of the house and hesitated before knocking. I was certainly happy to meet my father, but there was something most terrifying about this situation. What if he turned me away, disgusted at the thought that his own son turned into a terrible monster? Or what if he claimed to not have a son? I continued to stand in front of the door, thinking of terrible scenarios in my head, not even noticing that someone stood behind me._

_“_ _How did you find this place?!_ _”_ _someone hissed._ _“_ _No one is allowed to come to my house without permission!_ _”_ _Whoever was behind me pulled on my shoulder and forced me to turn around. The map that I had been clutching in my hands slowly fluttered to the ground as I faced a tall man with moderately short, silky hair and piercing blue eyes. He snarled at me, almost like an animal, his lips curling up and I caught a glimpse of his fangs a bit. I couldn_ _’_ _t find any words as I stared back at him in shock._ _“_ _State your name!_ _”_ _he snapped, looking down at me._

_“_ _I-I_ _’_ _m y-your_ _…”_ _I began, stammering._

_“_ _My what?!_ _”_ _he shouted._

_“_ _Your son!_ _”_ _I blurted, closing my eyes. I took a step back and tripped over my feet, falling on my backside. I looked up to the man, watching as his face softened as he looked over me. His fierce, looming scowl was now gone as he knelt down before me and leaned closer, letting his hands drape over my shoulders._

_“_ _Francis?_ _”_

* * *

 

The hours seemed to move slow as Arthur waited impatiently for Francis’ return home. He was starving at this point, his mouth dry from his cravings. The young vampire had wandered around the lavishly decorated mansion dozens of times, trying his best to distract himself from the wretched hunger that disturbed him.

As he roamed around his temporary home, he took note of how the place seemed to have no end to it; the hallways continued on and on, leading the way to more and more rooms. Arthur couldn’t fathom why Francis, a rich man who had no visitors or servants, needed to own such a large piece of property. The Englishman preferred cozier homes, for it made it made him feel less lonely, naturally.

Arthur eventually found himself back in the library, sitting down in one of the plush chairs, letting out a sigh. He picked up a book that had been sitting on the table beside him and flipped through the pages. He found himself staring at the words blankly, soon realising that the language was indeed not English, and closed the book. He sat in silence, listening to the grandfather clock steadily count the passing seconds.

“I’m starving,” Arthur muttered to himself, leaning his head back. “Where the bloody hell is he? I’m ready to tear this place apart.” He licked his lips and groaned, rubbing his stomach a bit. _Will I ever be comfortable as a vampire like Francis?_ he thought to himself, running a hand through his messy hair. This life certainly didn’t suit him at all; he had never been good at killing pests and insects, killing people wouldn’t be any easier. Arthur didn’t consider himself to be a ‘fancy’ person, either. He grew up in a shabby orphanage with his brothers and later was adopted by a lower middle-class couple; Arthur didn’t consider himself to be a part of the bourgeois class. Plus, he was now living with another man, as a _lover_ ; that alone was just absurd!

“Arthur?!” he heard Francis holler. “Where are you? I’ve brought you some dinner!” Arthur bolted out of the library and found his way to the dining area where he had heard Francis’ voice. Francis slowly pulled out a bag of blood from a paper bag and placed it on the table.

“Where on earth did you get a bag of blood?” Arthur asked, staring at him.

“There’s a butcher in the town over who’s also a vampire; he and I have a deal that he gives me bags of blood so I can have a supply of my own.” Francis answered, sliding a wine bottle over towards him. He punctured the bag with his teeth and poured the red liquid into the bottle.

“There’s a butcher that has a random supply of human blood?” Arthur muttered.

“No, no! It’s animal blood!” Francis clarified. “Being a butcher is a very bloody job and if you’re a vampire, well, you cannot waste it.”

“So you just expect me to drink pig’s blood or whatever the hell it is in those bags.” Arthur said, gesturing to the bottle.

“Well, yes.” Francis replied, chuckling. “I mean, I do have supplies of human blood, but that’s from my own hunting, and I like to save it for special occasions sometimes. Just like a good wine, no?” He glanced up at Arthur, seeing that he was not following his explanation. “Look, Arthur, sooner or later you have to think of human blood as a delicacy. We kind of have a limited supply of humans.”

“I don’t care, I’m not drinking animal blood for the rest of my life. That’s almost as bad as being a vegetarian!” Arthur shouted. “Besides, there’s a limit to animals as well.” Francis sighed.

“Not in my book,” he muttered. “Remember, I only kill those who deserve to be killed. I refuse to kill anyone innocent.” Arthur groaned, impatient.

“I’m _starving_ , Francis.” he whined. “Can’t you hurry up a little?”

“You need to learn to be patient, just like a child.” Francis simply replied, chuckling under his breath. Once the bag was empty, he crumpled it up and carried the bottle with him to the kitchen. When he returned, he carried two wine glasses and handed them to Arthur with a smile. “Go on now,” he cheered, turning back into the kitchen. “Drink.”

* * *

 

_“_ _Francis?_ _”_ _my father asked. I nodded. He smiled and pulled me in for a hug._ _“_ _What a bittersweet day this is!_ _”_

_“_ _You_ _’_ _re not happy to see me, Papa?_ _”_ _I asked. He sighed._

_"_ _Oh, I_ _’_ _m very happy to see you, Francis. What type of father would I be if I wasn_ _’_ _t?_ _”_ _he answered._ _“_ _I just had hoped that maybe you wouldn_ _’_ _t have shared the same fate as me._ _”_ _He then stood up, dusting his pants off._ _“_ _Come inside, we_ _’_ _ve got a lot of catching up to do._ _”_ _He gently guided me to the front door, unlocking it with a_

_“_ _Thirteen._ _”_ _I corrected. My father nodded, smiling, shrugging his jacket off._

_“_ _Yes, that_ _’_ _s right, your birthday was just a few weeks ago._ _”_ _he muttered._ _“_ _How does it feel to be a teenager, huh? You_ _’_ _re no longer a child._ _”_ _I glared at him, keeping quiet as he stared back, he smiling fading away._ _“_ _Your Maman, is she alright?_ _”_ _he then asked, concerned._

_“_ _She_ _’_ _s fine._ _”_ _I replied, my voice cracking a bit as I spoke. He sighed with relief._

_“_ _Good, good. Then it wasn_ _’_ _t her you lost._ _”_ _He said, moving to the living area. I followed close behind him, plodding my way into the room._

_“_ _But I have lost her!_ _”_ _I shouted._ _“_ _She made me live with you!_ _”_ _My father paused, looking over his shoulder and sighed._

_“_ _You will see her again, in time._ _”_ _he replied._ _“_ _I_ _’_ _m just glad you didn_ _’_ _t hurt her._ _”_

_“_ _No, I may not have hurt Maman, but I killed my one and only friend!_ _”_ _I snapped._ _“_ _I_ _’_ _ll_ never _see Jeanne again!_ _”_

_“_ _Francis_ _…”_

_“_ _And why did you leave Maman all alone? How could you do such a thing when you knew you loved her and that she was pregnant?_ _”_ _I continued, shouting._ _“_ _You didn_ _’_ _t have to leave, you know._ _”_ _He sighed, using the tips of his fingers to massage his temples._

_“_ _I didn_ _’_ _t want to leave you two, believe me, but I had no other choice._ _”_ _he explained._

_“_ _No choice?! You could_ _’_ _ve stayed! If you truly loved her, you would_ _’_ _ve turned her into a vampire!_ _”_ _I hissed. His arms fell to his sides as he scowled at me._

_“_ _To turn someone while she is pregnant is too much of a risk for the mother and the child._ _”_ _he said._

_“_ _You still could_ _’_ _ve stayed with her until I was born._ _”_ _I muttered._ _“_ _And I_ _’_ _m already half vampire anyway; it would_ _’_ _ve made no difference._

_“_ _It would have._ _”_ _My father clarified._ _“_ _At the time, Francis, I was still young. Just a new vampire and I refused to believe that I had turned into a beast. When I discovered that your mother was pregnant, I thought that things were turning back to normal, that I would be okay. But the hunger just took over one day and I brought another woman home that day. And I_ _…”_ _He stopped himself, flashing a sad smile._ _“_ _You_ _’_ _re still too young to understand, Francis. You will in time, however._ _”_ _I stared at him, scowling, and watched him move to the kitchen._ _“_ _You must be hungry. I_ _’_ _ll go see what I have left in my supplies; feel free to roam around the mansion._ _”_ _He then left, leaving me alone in the dining room._

* * *

 

Francis had moved to his room  after drinking his share of the blood he had brought home, which left Arthur on his own again. His hunger was still potent as ever and he wandered into the kitchen, staring at the bottle sitting on the counter. He absolutely hated the taste of the animal blood, but Arthur couldn’t stop himself from snatching the bottle and chugging the rest of its contents. Arthur dropped the bottle and wiped droplets of blood away from his mouth. He cringed at the aftertaste that remained in his mouth and hurried over to Francis’ room. Arthur gently knocked on the open door.

“Come in.” Francis answered, not bothering to turn around. “You don’t have to knock, you know. We’re the only ones here.”

“Yes, about that,” Arthur replied, taking a seat on the bed. “Why have a huge mansion like this but no servants to clean or keep you company?” At that, Francis turned around, staring back at Arthur. “Doesn’t it get lonely?”

“I did have servants at one time,” Francis said, sighing. He sat down next to Arthur and draped his arm over his shoulders. “But I couldn’t control my hunger one day and accidentally killed a maid. The others saw and were going to run into town to rat me out. And well, I couldn’t let that happen.” Arthur narrowed his eyes.

 “So you do kill innocent people.” Arthur muttered, raising his eyebrows.

“No, she was stealing money from me.” Francis added, laughing. “The others, well, they weren’t so innocent once they started to run.” Arthur slowly nodded, lying back on the bed. “I never asked for servants after that. I was alone for a few years until I brought you home.” Francis continued, tracing lines on Arthur’s thigh.

“What am I to you, Francis?” Arthur asked. Francis laughed, lying down as well. “Did you turn me because you needed a lover?”

“I was just lonely, Arthur.” he answered. “And so were you. I think we both know that it is not healthy to live a lonely life.” Arthur blinked in confusion, staring up at the ceiling. “Now, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” Francis rolled closer and cradled Arthur’s jaw with his hands, brushing his lips against his.

“Did you drink the rest of the pig’s blood before coming up here?”

* * *

 

_I had never seen so many books in one room in my life; there were books upon books stacked upon shelves upon shelves. I gazed up at the tall shelves, admiring the different colours that were displayed. I picked a random book and slid it out of place, opening it to the first chapter. My eyes scanned over the page, I felt my brow furrow as I tried to comprehend the words on the page. The letters looked familiar, but most of them did not make any sense nor hold any meaning._

_“_ _There you are._ _”_ _My father said behind me._ _“_ _I wondered where you had gone off to._ _”_ _I lifted the book up a bit and slammed it shut._

_“_ _What book is this?_ _”_ _I asked._ _“_ _I can_ _’_ _t read it._ _”_ _My father set a glass on the desk and laughed lightly._

_“_ _That_ _’_ _s because it_ _’_ _s in English,_ _”_ _he replied, putting a hand on his hip._ _“_ _A language you_ _’_ _ll soon learn._ _”_ _I narrowed my eyes._

_“_ _Why?_ _”_ _I questioned, placing the book back on the shelf._ _“_ _Most people speak French, do they not?_ _”_

_“_ _Yes, but it_ _’_ _s not always polite to make assumptions._ _”_ _My father added. I shook my head, glaring at him._

_“_ _French is just fine._ _”_ _I muttered. My father flashed a smile._

_“_ _So is English. It_ _’_ _s a very interesting language, Francis. I think you_ _’_ _ll enjoy it very much._ _”_ _he continued, sitting on the arm of the chair._ _“_ _Besides, when you_ _’_ _re older, I_ _’_ _d like you to move to England._ _”_

_“_ _Why? I heard that the food there is disgusting._ _”_ _I hissed._

_“_ _I_ _’_ _m not sure you_ _’_ _re aware of it, but it rains in England almost every day. With the overcast skies, it_ _’_ _s a perfect place for vampires to live because they won_ _’_ _t have to worry about sunburns._ _”_ _he explained. I rolled my eyes, shoving my hands in my pockets._

_“_ _Whatever. I don_ _’_ _t want to learn English._ _”_ _I mumbled. A chuckle rumbled through my father_ _’_ _s chest as he slid the glass towards the edge of the desk._

_“_ _Drink._ _”_ _he said, simply. I shook my head, walking past him._

_“_ _No,_ _”_ _I said._ _“_ _I want real food._ _”_ _Before I stepped out of the library, my father grabbed my arm and pulled me back._

_“_ _Don_ _’_ _t be silly, I refuse to let my son go hungry for another moment._ _”_ _he mused._ _“_ _You won_ _’_ _t be able to stomach human food for a few years or so._ _”_

_“_ _I_ said _, I want real food._ _”_ _I repeated._ _“_ _I want Maman_ _’_ _s cooking._ _”_ _My father shook his head, his chuckle bubbling out of his chest into laughter._

_“_ _Do you know what will happen if you eat_ _‘_ _real_ _’_ _food?_ _”_ _He paused, waiting for my response._ _“_ _You_ _’_ _ll be vomiting uncontrollably for days. It would be like having that stomach sickness and no one wants that. Even vampires._ _”_ _He picked up the glass and held it to my mouth, giving me a stern glare. I shook my head and tried to push him away. He only tightened his grip on my arm, almost crushing it with his sheer strength._

_“_ _Papa,_ _”_ _I pleaded, wincing in pain._ _“_ _Let me go._ _”_

_“You will do as you’re told, Francis.” he growled, holding the glass to my mouth again. “Now,” He released my arm and squeezed my cheeks, forcing my jaw to open slightly and slowly poured the blood down my mouth. “Drink.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I know this chapter is kind of a "filler" chapter but I hope that it gives you more insight into Francis' character in this fic and a little bit more about his father. Things are a little dull up to this chapter, I know; I promise things get slightly more interesting in the next chapter. Comments and critiques are welcomed and very much appreciated!   
> -Katelyn


	5. Hunter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before reading this chapter, please note that there is a new voice in the flashbacks. This voice is the voice of Arthur, and you will be able to tell the difference between his voice and Francis' by how the font appears. Arthur's back story will be in bold italics, while Francis' will be in italics. This information may give some information, but I wanted to clear up any confusion. Hopefully this chapter begins to put things into motion of the plot and is more interesting for you! Comments and critiques are welcomed and very much appreciated!! 
> 
> -Katelyn

It was one of those rare occasions when the sun’s light broke through the dark clouds over the town and dried the rain soaked ground. As much as he appreciated the sun, Francis winced as soon as he stepped out of the dense forest, grumbling under his breath in French. People passed by him as he pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders, trying to protect himself. He squinted a bit to see a crowd forming ahead of him, everyone rushing towards the town’s centre, muttering rumours and gossip. Francis sighed and followed them, standing on his toes to see what the fuss was about.

“Do you see how beautiful the carriage is decorated?” a young girl who stood in front of him, gasped. “It’s like a fairy tale!”

“Do you think it’s real?” her friend questioned. “It could easily be fake gold.”

“Why would you put fake gold on a carriage, Angeline? I say it’s real and it’s absolutely gorgeous.” Francis knelt down beside the two girls and carefully tapped their shoulders. They both jumped before quickly spinning around. “Mister Bonnefoy!” the first girl exclaimed. “Are you here to see the newcomer as well?” Francis raised his eyebrows.

“Pardon?” he asked, befuddled.

“Mister Archibald said that he found a new detective to take on the murder case.” The other girl, Angeline, stated. “That’s his carriage right there.” Francis smirked.

“Is that so.” he mused, looking between the gaps of the crowd. He caught a glimpse of the carriage that sat nicely by the fountain of the centre; it was beautifully crafted, similar to his own carriage at the mansion. Whoever was inside it, had to be of great wealth, unless someone let them borrow the carriage. “Well, I must say ladies that I do believe that is real gold on those edges.” he added, standing up.

“I told you!” the girl shouted, teasingly pushing her friend. The crowds muttering came to a halt when the carriage door opened. A man with fair blond hair, cold blue eyes stepped out down from his carriage, adjusting his navy blue suit as he straightened himself, making himself look taller. The silence was interrupted when Mister Archibald began pushing his way through to the front of the crowd.

“Everyone, everyone!” Mister Archibald announced. “I’ve hired a new detective for our murder cases! This is Lukas Bondevik; he’s from Norway, and agreed to live here for as long as he needs to in order to solve the case. Please, be kind to him and—“ As Mister Archibald continued rambling, Lukas’ eyes scanned across the crowd.

“It has come to my attention that there is a vampire living amongst you.” Lukas said. His voice was rather light and smooth, despite his accent, and carried over the crowd quite nicely. “You do not have to be having the worry; I will find the monster and dispose of him once and for all.”

“That’s exactly what Arthur told us and he’s dead!” a woman yelled. Lukas tilted his head slightly, his lips twitching into a subtle smile.

“Arthur Kirkland? He was your previous detective?” he asked, giving a small laugh. “No wonder you are still being tormented by this beast! He claims to be great with magic, but it always backfires.” His smile quickly faded. “You have nothing to worry about; my magic is better and stronger than Arthur’s.” The people in the crowd exchanged murmurs as Francis stared at Lukas, studying him.

“Do you think we’ll be able to sleep again, Angeline?” the girl whispered.

“I hope so, Bethany. I can’t bear to have nightmares anymore.” Angeline replied. Francis smirked to himself and placed his hands in his pockets, casually walking away as the crowd dispersed.

* * *

 

**_The orphanage sat on the corner of an all but abandoned street, far away from anyone_ ** **_’_ ** **_s sight. Children who grew up there were the ones who were tossed aside, hidden so society wouldn_ ** **_’_ ** **_t feel awful for ignoring those in need. Some children ran away from the orphanage, living on the streets and never to be seen again. My brothers though that we had a better chance of surviving by living in an orphanage , so we stayed put in the overcrowded building. My brothers and I had lived there for a year after our mother_ ** **_’_ ** **_s death, doing our best to stay together._ **

**_“_ ** **_Arthur,_ ** **_”_ ** **_my eldest brother, Alistair, shouted._ ** **_“_ ** **_How many times have I told you to stay within our sight?!_ ** **_”_ **

**_“_ ** **_Yes,_ ** **_”_ ** **_my second eldest brother, Laughlin, agreed._ ** **_“_ ** **_If you wander off, you_ ** **_’_ ** **_ll be taken away from us._ ** **_”_ ** **_Both of them were referring to being adopted; because I was the youngest out of the four of us, they constantly reminded me that I was more desirable for adoption. As much as we couldn_ ** **_’_ ** **_t stand to be with one another, my three brothers were protective of me._ **

**_Laughlin tore off a piece of bread he saved from yesterday_ ** **_’_ ** **_s dinner and offered it to me._ ** **_“_ ** **_Here, eat this._ ** **_”_ ** **_he muttered. I snatched the stale, hardened bread crumb and shoved it in my mouth. Without realising it, my old, stuffed bunny, a toy that all of my brothers had at one time, slipped out from my arm and slumped on the floor._ **

**_“_ ** **_How much longer are you going to hold onto that thing, Arthur?_ ** **_”_ ** **_Alistair grumbled. He opened a window and crawled out slightly to sit out on the ledge._ ** **_“_ ** **_It_ ** **_’_ ** **_s filthy._ ** **_”_ ** **_he added. I leaned over to pick it up and hugged it close._ **

**_“_ ** **_Never._ ** **_”_ ** **_I answered, burying my face in the bunny._ ** **_“_ ** **_He keeps me safe from the Voices._ ** **_”_ ** **_Ever since Mummy had passed away, I was tormented by the Voices that lurked about. I was the only who could hear them in the whole orphanage. My bunny didn_ ** **_’_ ** **_t actually protect me from Them, but he did make me feel safe. Alistair shook his head and crossed his arms, turning away from us. Dylan, my third eldest brother, wrapped himself up in his blanket and frowned._ **

**_“_ ** **_You won_ ** **_’_ ** **_t get to keep it much longer, Arthur._ ** **_”_ ** **_he said._ ** **_“_ ** **_Not if Alistair has anything to do with it._ ** **_”_ **

**_“_ ** **_Leave him alone._ ** **_”_ ** **_Laughlin defended._ ** **_“_ ** **_He_ ** **_’_ ** **_s only four years old; he can keep the bunny for as long as he wants._ ** **_”_ **

**_“_ ** **_Laughlin, don_ ** **_’_ ** **_t you see how disgusting it is?! It_ ** **_’_ ** **_s probably carrying tuberculosis by now!_ ** **_”_ ** **_Alistair spat._ ** **_“_ ** **_Arthur, give me the bunny._ ** **_”_ ** **_I shook my head, stepping_ ** **_“_ ** **_No!_ ** **_”_ ** **_I cried, running out of the large, communal bedroom. I sprinted down the hallway, pushing between the other children to my typical hiding spot: the utility closet. Alistair and the others never knew where I hid when I was in trouble, so they could never find me. The closet was my safe haven._ **

**_“_ ** **_Give me the fucking bunny, Arthur!_ ** **_”_ ** **_I heard Alistair yell. I sat down behind the mop bucket and held my bunny close, trying to muffle my short breaths from running. I heard heavy footsteps rush past the closet, stomping around the corner. I let out a sigh of relief and smiled to myself; I was safe from here._ **

**_Until They came._ **

**_The Voices were never too loud or noisy, especially during the day, but the darkness always seemed to make them shout. They always spoke to me and only me, or maybe they speak to everyone but I_ ** **_’_ ** **_m the only one who can hear them. Sometimes they_ ** **_’_ ** **_d talk to me while I slept, sometimes they would speak to me while I was playing with Dylan or the other children. The Voices, however, were never the same even throughout the day. I heard different cries and pleas every day. I could even feel their hands touching me if I stood still ong enough. They would tug on my shirt collar or try to steal my bunny away._ **

**_The Voices tortured me more than my brothers did._ **

**_“_ ** **_Arthur!_ ** **_”_ ** **_Alistair shouted._ ** **_“_ ** **_Stop being a twat and come out here! Stop hiding!_ ** **_”_ ** **_The door knob jiggled slightly and I tried to sink into the corner, whimpering. Alistair was terrifying when he was angry; he was almost like a terrible monster. The door swung open and I was dragged out of the closet._ ** **_“_ ** **_If you would just do as you_ ** **_’_ ** **_re told, I wouldn_ ** **_’_ ** **_t have to chase you around so much, you little runt!_ ** **_”_ **

**_“_ ** **_Alistair!_ ** **_”_ ** **_Miss Mary, the main woman who was in charge of the orphanage, hollered. She marched toward us and gently took me in her arms._ ** **_“_ ** **_As one of the oldest children in this orphanage I would most certainly expect better manners! Especially to your own brother!_ ** **_”_ **

**_“_ ** **_Well, Miss Mary, if he had listened_ ** **_—“_ ** **_Alistair excused._ **

**_“_ ** **_No excuses, Alistair! Apologise to Arthur at once!_ ** **_”_ ** **_she snapped._ **

**_“_ ** **_Miss Mary_ ** **_—“_ **

**_“_ ** **_Apologise!_ ** **_”_ ** **_Alistair bit his lip and scowled at me before pushing Miss Mary aside. He stomped away, marching back to the bedroom where the other kids and my brothers were gathering. Miss Mary shook her head a sighed._ ** **_“_ ** **_What am I to do with him?_ ** **_”_ ** **_She put me down and knelt down beside me, smiling._ ** **_“_ ** **_Arthur, there_ ** **_’_ ** **_s someone here to see you._ ** **_”_ **

**_“_ ** **_Are they going to tell the Voices to leave me alone?_ ** **_”_ ** **_I asked. Miss Mary nodded._ **

**_"She_ ** **_’_ ** **_s going to help you,_ ** **_”_ ** **_she replied, taking my hand._ ** **_“_ ** **_She is a dear friend of mine. She_ ** **_’_ ** **_s waiting for you in the office._ ** **_”_ ** **_Miss Mary carefully guided down the stairs and the hallway to her office. She opened the door and revealed a woman with short, white-blonde hair sitting in a chair, quietly waiting for me._ **

* * *

 

Francis had a meeting with Mrs. Owens and the rest of the committee to discuss the matters of finding a new mayor. Except, that wasn’t what was on the committee’s mind from the start.

“The nerve of that man!” Mrs. Owens shouted, pounding her fists on the table. “He went against everything we discussed at the meeting!”

“Now, now, Ella, Harold is just trying to help the situation we are in. We can’t let the murderer think that he can just do whatever he pleases.” Francis said, trying to calm her down.

“He had no right to hire a detective without an agreement!” Mrs. Owens continued. “We don’t even know if this Lukas Bondevik has the proper credentials to be a detective!”

“You’re right, he could be a scam!” Mister Potter agreed. “We should bring him in to discuss the issue!”

“Or, we could talk about our mayor problem.” Francis muttered. “Since, that is what this meeting is about, no?” Mrs. Owens turned to face him, scowling.

“Does it not bother you that Mister Archibald went against everything discussed at the town meeting, and the committee he’s a part of?” she asked. Francis shrugged.

“That is for his committee to discuss, not ours.” he replied. “Our focus is to find a new mayor, which is just as important.” Francis opened a folder that was sitting in front of him and passed along a pile of papers to everyone. “Here is a list of names of the people I could contact for the mayor ballot. I wrote down a description of their jobs and credentials for everyone to consider; our goal today is to narrow down the list.” Mister Potter looked up from the paper.

“Can’t we just elect you as our mayor?” he asked, smiling. “You’d fit the part well, Francis.”

“Agreed.” Mrs. Owens added. Francis pursed his lips and sighed in frustration.

“I do not wish to be mayor,” he grumbled. “We’ve already discussed this.”

“Oh, but why not? Everyone in the town already knows who you are, and they all think that you could fit the role well.” Mrs. Owens continued. “It really would make our lives easier, Francis.” Francis shook his head and opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the door swinging open.

“Sorry everyone,” Harold Archibald greeted. “I know you’re in a very important meeting at the moment, but I wanted to make sure you all had a chance to meet Lukas Bondevik, the new detective.” He stepped aside and Lukas slowly walked into the room. He gave everyone a cold, blank stare as if he could read through everyone’s minds, seeking through their pasts for answers. His eyes lingered on Francis the longest, they narrowed in question and his subtle smile flashed across his face. Francis glared back at him, folding his hands in front of him, waiting for Lukas to mutter something in his weak voice.

“Good morning, everyone,” Lukas announced, his eyes flickering around the room once again. “It is a pleasure to meet you all. I will be making rounds across the town later this evening, to speak with you all about the vampire lurking about.” His eyes flickered back to Francis, his smile vanishing. “I ask that you all be honest with me; it will make the process of finding the suspect easier and quicker. I presume everyone lives in town, yes?”

“Everyone except Mister Bonnefoy,” Mister Potter chimed in. Francis drew in a quick breath, digging his nails into his own hand. _That_ _’_ _s a strike against you, Steven Potter._ He thought to himself, watching Lukas smile once again. “Mister Bonnefoy owns a mansion just outside of town, but it is a good walk towards it.” Lukas nodded.

“Than I shall interview you before you leave town for the evening, Mister Bonnefoy.” he said. “If that is alright with you.” Francis smiled.

“Of course,” he agreed, cheerfully. “It will make both of our lives easier.” Lukas chuckled quietly.

“Then it is set.” he murmured. “I shall see all of you in the next few days.” Lukas turned away and stepped outside of the room, still chuckling to himself. “Good day.”

* * *

 

**_“_ ** **_Arthur, this is Mrs. K_ ** **_å_ ** **_ra Haakonsson,_ ** **_”_ ** **_Miss Mary introduced._ ** **_“_ ** **_She_ ** **_’_ ** **_s a specialist with speaking to Spirits and using magic_ ** **_”_ ** **_Mrs. Haakonsson rose from her seat and swiftly knelt down in front of me, offering her hand._ **

**_“_ ** **_Hello, Arthur, I_ ** **_’_ ** **_m so happy to meet you!_ ** **_”_ ** **_she cheered, in a funny accent. Her bangs were swooped to the side, nearly covering the right side of her face._ ** **_“_ ** **_You can call me K_ ** **_å_ ** **_ra if you_ ** **_’_ ** **_d like. Tell me, how old are you, Arthur?_ ** **_”_ **

**_“_ ** **_Four._ ** **_”_ ** **_I answered._ ** **_“_ ** **_Four and three quarters, to be exact._ ** **_”_ ** **_Mrs. Haakonsson giggled as she shifted herself around to sit on the floor._ **

**_“_ ** **_Four and three quarters; you_ ** **_’_ ** **_re a smart little one, aren_ ** **_’_ ** **_t you?_ ** **_”_ ** **_she exclaimed. I nodded with a smile and sat down as well._ ** **_“_ ** **_And your brothers, how old are they?_ ** **_”_ **

**_"Dylan is eight and Laughlin is twelve._ ** **_”_ ** **_I replied, setting my bunny in my lap._ ** **_“_ ** **_Alistair is the oldest._ ** **_”_ **

**_“_ ** **_He_ ** **_’_ ** **_s fifteen._ ** **_”_ ** **_Missy Mary chimed in, sitting in her desk chair. Mrs. Haakonsson nodded._ **

**_“_ ** **_I see, so you_ ** **_’_ ** **_re the youngest._ ** **_”_ ** **_She muttered, taking note. She patted my bunny_ ** **_’_ ** **_s head and smiled._ ** **_“_ ** **_Does your friend have a name?_ ** **_”_ ** **_I stared at her, thinking for a moment. I had never thought to name him._ **

**_“_ ** **_Bunny._ ** **_”_ ** **_I answered. Mrs. Haakonsson laughed, placing her hands in her lap._ **

**_“_ ** **_Does Bunny protect you from the Voices?_ ** **_”_ ** **_she asked, still laughing. My shoulders tensed as I felt my eyes widening in shock._ **

**_“_ ** **_Miss Mary told you?_ ** **_”_ ** **_I asked._ **

**_“_ ** **_Yes,_ ** **_”_ ** **_she said._ ** **_“_ ** **_That_ ** **_’_ ** **_s why I_ ** **_’_ ** **_m here to help you, Arthur._ ** **_”_ ** **_She placed her hand gently on my arm to reassure me that I was safe._ ** **_“_ ** **_Your brothers tease you about hearing Them, don_ ** **_’_ ** **_t they?_ ** **_”_ **

**_“_ ** **_Yes._ ** **_”_ ** **_I mumbled._ **

**_“_ ** **_Well, Arthur, I_ ** **_’_ ** **_m here to tell you that it_ ** **_’_ ** **_s okay to hear Voices. You have a special gift; not everyone can hear the Spirits reaching out to us._ ** **_”_ ** **_Mrs. Haakonsson reassured._ ** **_“_ ** **_How long have you been hearing the Voices speaking out to you?_ ** **_”_ ** **_I pulled Bunny closer to me, glancing over at Miss Mary for reassurance._ **

**_“_ ** **_It_ ** **_’_ ** **_s okay, Arthur,_ ** **_”_ ** **_she said, softly._ ** **_“_ ** **_Alistair isn_ ** **_’_ ** **_t going to hear this._ ** **_”_ ** **_I looked back at Mrs. Haakonsson and picked at a piece of fuzz on Bunny_ ** **_’_ ** **_s head._ **

**_“_ ** **_I_ ** **_’_ ** **_ve heard them ever since I can remember,_ ** **_”_ ** **_I answered._ ** **_“_ ** **_They_ ** **_’_ ** **_ve gotten worse since Mummy went away._ ** **_”_ ** **_Mrs. Haakonsson glanced over her shoulder to look at Miss Mary._ **

**_“_ ** **_He doesn_ ** **_’_ ** **_t know?_ ** **_”_ ** **_she asked. Miss Mary shook her head and sighed._ **

**_“_ ** **_His brothers refuse to talk about it._ ** **_”_ ** **_she whispered. Mrs. Haakonsson nodded and turned back to me, smiling._ **

**_“_ ** **_When did your mother leave?_ ** **_”_ ** **_she asked._ ** **_“_ ** **_Where did she go?_ ** **_”_ ** **_I shrugged._ **

**_“_ ** **_I don_ ** **_’_ ** **_t remember._ ** **_”_ ** **_I replied._ ** **_“_ ** **_Laughlin says that she_ ** **_’_ ** **_s gone to a happier place. I just wish she had taken us with her; Alistair_ ** **_’_ ** **_s been mean ever since._ ** **_”_ ** **_Mrs. Haakonsson frowned._ **

**_“_ ** **_Have you ever heard your mother_ ** **_’_ ** **_s voice ever since she left?_ ** **_”_ ** **_she asked. I shook my head once again._ **

**_“_ ** **_No, They all talk at once. It_ ** **_’_ ** **_s too loud to tell._ ** **_”_ ** **_I said. I paused, fiddling with a stray string on my pant leg._ ** **_“_ ** **_But They_ ** **_’_ ** **_re always different when They speak._ ** **_”_ **

**_“_ ** **_I see._ ** **_”_ ** **_She sighed, scooting closer to me._ ** **_“_ ** **_Do you see people when they speak?_ ** **_”_ **

**_“_ ** **_Sometimes, not always._ ** **_”_ ** **_I frowned._ ** **_“_ ** **_When will they leave me alone?_ ** **_”_ ** **_Mrs. Haakonsson then gave me a soft smile and opened a small bag that was sitting beside her, pulling out a golden pendant._ **

**_“_ ** **_With this, they will._ ** **_”_ ** **_she explained, wrapping the pendant around my neck._ ** **_“_ ** **_I_ ** **_’_ ** **_ve sealed this with magic so you can sleep for the night, Arthur. Miss Mary and I need to discuss some things, okay?_ ** **_”_ ** **_I nodded._ **

**_“_ ** **_Okay, Mrs. Haakonsson._ ** **_”_ ** **_I said, standing up. I held the golden pendant in my hand as she guided my out of the office._ **

**_“_ ** **_Oh, and Arthur,_ ** **_”_ ** **_she added._ ** **_“_ ** **_You_ ** **_’_ ** **_re not the only child I know who can hear Voices. I have a nephew who_ ** **_’_ ** **_s your age in my home country that can hear Them and see Them._ ** **_”_ ** **_I turned to look up at her, feeling my smile brighten._ **

**_“_ ** **_Can I know his name?_ ** **_”_ ** **_I asked. Mrs. Haakonsson smiled and patted my head._ **

**_“_ ** **_His name,_ ** **_”_ ** **_she replied._ ** **_“_ ** **_Is Lukas._ ** **_”_ **

* * *

 

It was beginning to get dark when Francis unlocked the empty mayor’s office. He had finally relented with committee and agreed to fill in the mayor spot for a transition. The room was fairly big, with empty bookshelves covering the side walls. The desk sat in the centre of the room; it still had a few papers resting on it, all of them being scattered about. He chuckled to himself; everything was still the way he left it the night he killed the mayor. He leaned over to pick up the papers when he heard a small knock at the door.

“Mister Bonnefoy,” Lukas muttered, walking into the room. Francis quickly stood up and stared at him, waiting for him to continue. “Sorry, did I startle you?” There was a hint of mockery in his tone of voice, almost as if he was toying with the vampire. “Do you mind if I ask you a few questions before you leave town for the night?” Francis waved a hand in the air.

“Go on.” he answered.

“Good.” Lukas sighed, putting his hands in his pockets. “How long have you been living here?”

“A year or two.” Francis replied, crossing his arms. He leaned against the desk, staring at the interrogator with narrowed eyes.

“You are not originally from England, correct? You are a foreigner like me.” Lukas continued. “With a last name like that, I’m guessing you are from France, yes?” Francis nodded, closing his eyes as he did so. “What made you move here? The weather?”

“I moved here to England because I was expanding my father’s business.” Francis answered.

“I see.” Lukas muttered. “And that is why you are able to live in a mansion?” He paused, taking a deep breath before turning away. “How long have there been killings in this town?”

“Only just recently, Mister Bondevik.” Francis grumbled. “A few months, at most.”

“Have you noticed any patterns in the murderer’s victims? Are they all women? Men? Children?”

“No, I have not.”

“One last question, Mister Bonnefoy; do you ever fear that you will be the next victim?” Lukas’ little smirk appeared again, this time, teasing Francis.

“Every waking moment of my life.” Francis answered. He pushed himself off of the desk and led Lukas towards the door. “If you excuse me, I need to lock up the office and head home; it’s past dinner time.” He heard a chuckle from the Norwegian, and quickly stopped in his tracks. “Did I say something funny?”

“Not at all, Mister Bonnefoy.” Lukas mumbled. “But, I want to tell you something very important. Do you believe in magic, sir?” Francis remained silent. “People like me and Arthur Kirkland are people of magic, and we have special gifts. I, for one, can hear and see Spirits that are trapped in a void that lies between this world and the next. One of my tasks in life is to help guide them to the light so their misery can be put to end.” Lukas’ subtle smile widened, becoming creepier as he continued to speak. “As you can imagine, I talk to the Spirits often, and they do not speak very highly of you, unlike the town’s people here. There is one young girl in particular who is screaming right now at you; can you hear her?” Francis swallowed and inhaled deeply. “She’s telling me to be careful around you, screaming in fear of you. Did you wrong someone in your past, Francis?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you are speaking of.” Francis said, opening door. “Please, Lukas, I must leave.” Lukas raised his arms up, surrendering, and chuckled.

“Yes, yes, I understand, I have overstepped my boundaries. I should let you go.” he said. Francis nodded and watched him step out of the room. After locking the door, he walked ahead of Lukas to the exit. Before Francis turned onto the path that led to the forest, Lukas grabbed his shoulder.

“One last thing,” he muttered, with a grin. Francis sighed and glared at him, waiting. “Jeanne says hello.”


	6. Voices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lully, lullay, thou little tiny child,  
> Bye bye, lully, lullay.
> 
> -Coventry Carol

**_My meetings with Mrs. Haakonsson were kept secret from my brothers for several days; her therapy was helpful to me with dealing with the Voices. The pendant she had given me worked, I was able to sleep at night once again. But of course, secrets cannot be kept from my family, especially from my brother Laughlin._ **

**_I walked into the bedroom where most of the children were in the afternoon, finding Laughlin sitting on his bed, reading a book and Dylan carving something into the hardwood floor. I climbed onto Laughlin_ ** **_’_ ** **_s bed and curled up by his pillow, playing with the golden pendant around my neck. I heard the_ ** **_“_ ** **_thump_ ** **_”_ ** **_from Laughlin slamming his book shut and felt my leg being tugged out from under me._ ** **_“_ ** **_Where were you?_ ** **_”_ ** **_Laughlin asked, sternly. He dragged me towards him by the leg and glared at me._ **

**_“_ ** **_Miss Mary_ ** **_’_ ** **_s office._ ** **_”_ ** **_I answered, dropping the pendant so it could rest against my chest._ **

**_“_ ** **_Why?_ ** **_”_ ** **_he hissed._ ** **_“_ ** **_You know that if she asks for you, you_ ** **_’_ ** **_re supposed to come find Alistair or me._ ** **_”_ **

**_“_ ** **_A nice lady is helping me and the Voices. The Voices haven_ ** **_’_ ** **_t talked to me._ ** **_”_ ** **_I replied, mumbling. My brother took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of him nose._ **

**_“_ ** **_Arthur, promise me you won_ ** **_’_ ** **_t go in Miss Mary_ ** **_’_ ** **_s office again without us._ ** **_”_ ** **_he said, running his hands through his bright red hair._ **

**_“_ ** **_But Mrs. Haakonsson doesn_ ** **_’_ ** **_t want to take me away._ ** **_”_ ** **_I defended, sitting up._ **

**_“_ ** **_She might if we_ ** **_’_ ** **_re not careful._ ** **_”_ ** **_Laughlin muttered. He looked down over to Dylan._ ** **_“_ ** **_Do you happen to know where Alistair is, Arthur?_ ** **_”_ ** **_I shook my head, looking at the pendant once again. I had grown fond of it over the past few days; I loved the large, tight spirals that were in its centre. The design gave me a sense of familiarity within myself; it looked similar to some of the tombstones I saw in the graveyard. I snapped out of my trance when I felt Laughlin ruffling my hair with his fist._ ** **_“_ ** **_We_ ** **_’_ ** **_re not doing this because we like to mess with you, Arthur,_ ** **_”_ ** **_he added._ ** **_“_ ** **_The four of us are a family and we can_ ** **_’_ ** **_t be separated._ ** **_”_ **

**_“_ ** **_I don_ ** **_’_ ** **_t want to stay here._ ** **_”_ ** **_I muttered, squirming away._ ** **_“_ ** **_I want Mummy._ ** **_”_ **

**_“_ ** **_We all do._ ** **_”_ ** **_Dylan chimed in, resting his chin on the thin mattress._ ** **_“_ ** **_But Mummy_ ** **_’_ ** **_s gone forever, Arthur._ ** **_”_ **

**_“_ ** **_I know_ ** **_…”_ ** **_I sniffed._ **

**_“_ ** **_Don_ ** **_’_ ** **_t worry; in a few more years Alistair will be old enough to take us out and buy a place to live in. He_ ** **_’_ ** **_ll take care of us._ ** **_”_ ** **_Laughlin assured._ ** **_“_ ** **_We just have to be strong until then._ ** **_”_ ** **_Dylan wrinkled his nose._ **

**_“_ ** **_That_ ** **_’_ ** **_s forever from now, Laughlin._ ** **_”_ ** **_he whined._ **

**_“_ ** **_It_ ** **_’_ ** **_ll go by fast if we don_ ** **_’_ ** **_t think about it._ ** **_”_ ** **_Laughlin sighed._ **

**_“_ ** **_What if someone takes us?_ ** **_”_ ** **_I asked, hopeful._ **

**_“_ ** **_No one ever has room for four unruly boys._ ** **_”_ ** **_Alistair stepped between the bed rows, hands in his pockets and sat on the bed across from Laughlin_ ** **_’_ ** **_s, the bed Dylan and I shared._ ** **_“_ ** **_They want cute little kids like you, Arthur. Even Dylan. That_ ** **_’_ ** **_s why you need to stay with us._ ** **_”_ ** **_His eyes lingered over me, catching the shimmering gold that was around my neck. He narrowed his eyes and quickly grabbed me by the shirt collar, letting the golden pendant rest in his hand._ ** **_“_ ** **_What the hell is this?_ ** **_”_ ** **_he asked. He roughly pulled the pendant off and dropped me on the floor._ **

**_“_ ** **_Don_ ** **_’_ ** **_t!_ ** **_”_ ** **_I cried, jumping up and down._ ** **_“_ ** **_You_ ** **_’_ ** **_ll break the spell! Mrs. Haakonsson gave it to me so the Voices will leave me alone!_ ** **_”_ ** **_Alistair gave me a menacing scowl as he lifted the pendant over his head._ ** **_“_ ** **_Give it back!_ ** **_”_ **

**_“_ ** **_How many times do I have to tell you that there are no Voices?  You_ ** **_’_ ** **_re just crying for attention._ ** **_”_ ** **_he grumbled._ **

**_“_ ** **_Alistair!_ ** **_”_ ** **_I whined._ ** **_“_ ** **_The Voices are real! They_ ** **_’_ ** **_ve stopped talking to me ever since I had the necklace!_ ** **_”_ ** **_Alistair shook his head, pushing through the other children to get to the open window._ ** **_“_ ** **_Please, Alistair, give it back!_ ** **_”_ ** **_I repeated, following him._ **

**_“_ ** **_It_ ** **_’_ ** **_s a stupid necklace; it_ ** **_’_ ** **_s not going to save you from your imagination._ ** **_”_ ** **_he grunted._ **

**_“_ ** **_Just give it back to him, Alistair._ ** **_”_ ** **_Laughlin defended, rushing over to us. He snatched the pendant from Alistair, glaring at him._ ** **_“_ ** **_It_ ** **_’_ ** **_s not his or ours, so we should at least be respectful to someone_ ** **_’_ ** **_s gift._ ** **_”_ ** **_Alistair rolled his eyes and grabbed the pendant back._ **

**_“_ ** **_Fine,_ ** **_”_ ** **_he snapped._ ** **_“_ ** **_But Arthur_ ** **_’_ ** **_s not wearing it until I meet this Mrs. Haakon._ ** **_”_ **

**_“_ ** **_Haakonsson!_ ** **_”_ ** **_I corrected, punching his leg._ ** **_“_ ** **_Give it back, Alistair!_ ** **_”_ **

**_“_ ** **_You can have it back tomorrow after I_ ** **_’_ ** **_ve met her._ ** **_”_ ** **_he reiterated, walking back over to the beds._ ** **_“_ ** **_But you_ ** **_’_ ** **_ll see that those Voices are nothing but your imagination, Arthur. You_ ** **_’_ ** **_ve got to grow up,_ ** **_”_ ** **_He shoved the pendant in his pocket, smirking smugly._ ** **_“_ ** **_And stop being such a twat._ ** **_”_ **

* * *

 

He was in full panic; as soon as he slammed the mansion door behind him, Francis slumped against it and ran his fingers through his silky hair. He could hear every single aspirated breath he took, blood rushing through his veins. He pulled his knees up to his chest and began rocking back and forth. “There’s a vampire hunter in town. He’s hardly been here for a day and he’s already suspecting me.” Francis said to himself. “He’s torturing me. He’s going to kill me I will be punished for everything I’ve done.” He slowly began to crawl towards the living room, grabbing and using the entrance way as a support to stand up. His breathing was still frantic, even more so as Lukas’ last statement kept echoing through his mind.

_Jeanne says hello._

What could that possibly mean? There was no possible way Jeanne could be alive; she had nothing left of her once he was finished with her. Nothing. How could Lukas possibly know her, or yet, even speak to her?

Francis stumbled into the living room, knocking over everything as he attempted to make his way to the couch. He tripped over a portion of the rug that had been scrunched up by accident, falling, nearly smacking his head against the hardwood floor.

_Jeanne says hello._

Where? Where is Jeanne? If she could speak to those still in this world, why would she speak only to Lukas and not Francis, her best friend? Where was she? Why couldn’t he see her too?

_Jeanne says hello._

“Arthur!!” Francis cried out, rolling over to his stomach. “Arthur!!” He pushed himself up and climbed onto the couch, trying to catch his breath. “Arthur!!” Each time Francis called for him, he sounded more and more frantic, almost like a child calling out for his parent. The last time he felt this panicked was the day he lost Jeanne and discovered he was a vampire, and the day he lost his Maman. Except, everything seemed so much worse this time around. “Arthur!! Please, answer me!” he cried out again. There were footsteps coming from the other room and soon he saw Arthur standing in the doorway, with an eyebrow raised.

“What the hell are you on about?” he asked, crossing his arms. “I’ve never seen you like this…”

“Is it true?! Can you talk to Spirits?!” Francis blurted. Arthur made a face, casually walking over to the couch to sit next to him. “You used magic for your ‘monster hunts’, no? So you can speak with Spirits, yes?”

“First of all,” Arthur began, putting an arm over Francis’ shoulders. “You need to take a few breaths and calm yourself down. I have no idea what’s gotten you so worked up. Breathe.” Together the slowly inhaled an exhaled for a moment, which easily made Francis relax slightly. “Now, where on earth did you hear that I can talk to Spirits?”

“There’s a new vampire hunter in town and he’s only been here for a day and he’s already onto me! Oh _merde_ , he’s going to kill me Arthur! We’ll both be dead! Dead!” Francis explained, taking short, quick breaths between every other word, heightening his panic once again.

“Francis, Francis!” Arthur said, soothingly. “Breathe.” A pause. “Who’s this vampire hunter you speak of?”

“Lukas Bondevik.” Francis answered, quickly. “I will get Harold Archibald for hiring him!”

“Wait, you mean to tell me that they hired a new hunter before making an attempt to find me?!” Arthur hissed. “Those incompetent bastards!”

“Arthur! That’s not important!” Francis snapped, gripping the other’s shirt collar. “Answer my question; can you or can’t you?” Arthur froze for a second, pushing Francis’ hands away and turning away slightly.

“Yes, I can speak with Spirits, but I’d rather not.” he muttered.

“Find Jeanne immediately!” Francis shouted. Arthur scowled at him.

“Clearly, you don’t know how this works!” he replied, matching Francis’ tone. “There is no ‘finding’ Spirits because it’s an endless Void filled with them. The Spirits find _you_ , not the other way around. Besides, I wouldn’t know who to look for.”

“Jeanne; a young girl with short, blonde hair with blue-green eyes and…” Francis started.

“That could be _anyone_ , Francis.” Arthur grumbled. “I choose not to speak with Them, regardless; Their torturing is never-ending.” He paused. “Did you say Lukas Bondevik?”

“ _Yes._ ” Francis hissed. “Four minutes ago. Thank you for listening to me.” Arthur’s face grew pale as he put his head in his hands, groaning.

“I can’t believe it, my cousin is here to show me up again.” he muttered.

“He’s your cousin?!”

“Only by law.” Arthur clarified. “It’s a long story. Do you have a plan to get rid of him?” Francis shook his head.

“Sadly, no.” he whispered. “But I need to talk to Jeanne; Lukas claims he has spoken with her, saying she says hello. In a mocking way, of course…”

“Lukas can speak with the Spirits because his powers are much more precise than mine.” Arthur explained. He pulled out a golden pendant from under his shirt, letting it dangle around his neck. “This blocks out the voices of the Spirits; it I take this off, my mind will be flooded with screaming.”

“Can’t you—“

“No, I can’t.” Arthur sighed. “I refuse to take the medallion off.” He glanced at Francis. “I’m sorry that I cannot find Jeanne for you.”

“There has to be a way; you’re not even trying!” Francis cried.

“Because I know for a fact that it will not work!!” Arthur spat back. “If Lukas told you that he’s spoken with Jeanne, then ask him to find her for you. I do not have the abilities to do so.”

“Perhaps if you just tried, for God’s sake, Arthur! Please, do it for me!” Francis pleaded. He gently touched Arthur’s arm and gave him a pouty look, whimpering like some kind of animal.

“You are most certainly the most ridiculous man I have met in my entire life.” Arthur grumbled under his breath. “Let me think it through over a day or two.” Francis sighed in relief. He leaned over and gave Arthur a kiss, a kiss much more passionate than any of their previous kisses, and ran a hand through his hair.

“Thank you, Arthur.” he whispered, delicately. He slowly stood up and wrapped his arms around himself. “I think I am going to rest early tonight; I’ve had a long day. You know what to do before you come upstairs to join me, yes?” Arthur nodded, watching his lover exit the room before he could properly answer. Now alone in the room, Arthur bowed his head, wrapping the chain of the pendant around his fingers, collecting his thoughts.

What a strange mess he was living in.

* * *

 

**'Le mort. Un destine l** **’** **horrible attend.** **_’_ **

**_The Voices were always louder during night time, especially louder when I had slept several nights with a pendant that diminished my senses. Most of Them were groaning and pleading to see the light to guide Them home, for freedom. They all sounded similar, their pleas and calls, except for one Voice._ **

**_‘_ ** **Le mort. Un destine l** **’** **horrible attend. Le mort.** **’**

**_I rolled over in my bed and stared at Dylan. He was sound asleep, like always, with a small string of drool dripping from his open mouth. I reached over and shook his shoulder, gently._ ** **_“_ ** **_Dylan,_ ** **_”_ ** **_I whispered._ ** **_“_ ** **_Dylan, wake up._ ** **_”_ ** **_My brother groaned, rolling over._ **

**‘** **Le mort. Le mort.** **’**

**_“_ ** **_Dylan!_ ** **_”_ ** **_My whispering had morphed into whimpering as I lied across his stomach, reaching up to smack his face._ ** **_“_ ** **_Dylan! Please wake up!_ ** **_”_ **

**_“_ ** **_Go to sleep Arthur._ ** **_”_ ** **_Dylan groaned._ **

**_“_ ** **_But the Voices won_ ** **_’_ ** **_t leave me alone!_ ** **_”_ ** **_I whined. My brother sighed, rubbing his eyes._ **

**_“_ ** **_What am I supposed to do about it?_ ** **_”_ ** **_he mumbled._ **

**_“_ ** **_Can you sing the lullaby Mummy used to sing?_ ** **_”_ ** **_I asked._ ** **_“_ ** **_Until I fall asleep?_ ** **_”_ ** **_Dylan grumbled something inaudible as he pushed me off of him, which resulted me falling onto the floor._ **

**_“_ ** **_Go ask Laughlin,_ ** **_”_ ** **_he ordered._ ** **_“_ ** **_I_ ** **_’_ ** **_m sleeping._ ** **_”_ **

**_“_ ** **_No you_ ** **_’_ ** **_re not, you_ ** **_’_ ** **_re ta_ ** **_—“_ **

**_“_ ** **_Shh! Just go ask Laughlin!_ ** **_”_ **

**‘** **Le mort, le mort. Un douloureux, le mort** **é** **ternal** **’**

**_I pushed myself up off of the floor and shivered. The heat never seemed to work at nighttime, which meant that the children were not supposed to leave their beds unless there was an emergency. The Rebel Voice was practically screaming in my head; in a way, this was an emergency. I crawled into Laughlin_ ** **_’_ ** **_s and Alistair_ ** **_’_ ** **_s bed, trying my best to be sneaky about it. My hand slipped in front of me and I fell, bumping my head against Alistair_ ** **_’_ ** **_s._ ** **_“_ ** **_Jesus Chr_ ** **_—“_ ** **_Alistair hissed, sitting up. He forced himself to cover his mouth to refrain from shouting and waking up the whole room. He held his forehead before glancing at me, groaning in pain._ **

**_“_ ** **_I_ ** **_’_ ** **_m sorry, Alistair._ ** **_”_ ** **_I mumbled._ ** **_“_ ** **_I didn_ ** **_’_ ** **_t mean to._ ** **_”_ **

**_“_ ** **_Arthur,_ ** **_”_ ** **_Alistair growled._ ** **_“_ ** **_What the bloody fuck are you doing? Go back to sleep!_ ** **_”_ **

**_“_ ** **_The Voices are talking to me again!_ ** **_”_ ** **_I cried._ **

**_“_ ** **_I don_ ** **_’_ ** **_t care, go back to sleep._ ** **_”_ ** **_he snapped, lying back down._ **

**_“_ ** **_But They_ ** **_’_ ** **_re speaking a different language._ ** **_”_ ** **_I added, grabbing the sleeve of his shirt._ ** **_“_ ** **_Please, Alistair, sing Mummy_ ** **_’_ ** **_s lullaby._ ** **_”_ **

**_“_ ** **_And wake up the rest of the orphanage?_ ** **_”_ ** **_he replied._ ** **_“_ ** **_Go. Back. To sleep._ ** **_”_ **

**_“_ ** **_I. Can_ ** **_’_ ** **_t._ ** **_”_ ** **_I rubbed my eyes._ ** **_“_ ** **_Please, Alistair? I promise I won_ ** **_’_ ** **_t make you angry tomorrow._ ** **_”_ **

**_“_ ** **_That_ ** **_’_ ** **_s a lie; don_ ** **_’_ ** **_t make promises you can_ ** **_’_ ** **_t keep._ ** **_”_ ** **_Alistair groaned._ ** **_“_ ** **_For the last time, go_ ** **_—“_ **

**_“_ ** **_Laughlin will do it._ ** **_”_ ** **_I interrupted._ ** **_“_ ** **_Laughlin_ ** **_’_ ** **_s the nice brother._ ** **_”_ **

**_“_ ** **_That_ ** **_’_ ** **_s because he_ ** **_’_ ** **_s the most like Mum._ ** **_”_ ** **_Alistair sat up and lifted me off of the bed, placing me back on the floor._ ** **_“_ ** **_Go to bed, Arthur._ ** **_”_ **

**‘** **Un destine l** **’** **horrible attend. Le mort, le mort. Un douloureux, le mort** **é** **ternal. Le mort.** **’**

**_“_ ** **_But Ali_ ** **_—“_ ** **_I pleaded._ **

**_“_ ** **_Quit whining! You_ ** **_’_ ** **_re such a little twat!_ ** **_”_ ** **_he snapped._ ** **_“_ ** **_Mind over matter, Arthur. Mind over matter!_ ** **_”_ **

**‘** **Le mort. Le mort. Le mort!!** **’**

**_I sniffed as I stood in front of their bed, shivering from the cold. I hated Alistair; I wanted the Voice to leave me alone and I wanted my brother to believe me; so I did what Mrs. Haakonsson told me to never do._ **

**_I let the Voice take control._ **

* * *

Arthur had come to the conclusion that he and Francis were not typical vampires. The vampires Arthur knew of and had seen sere selfish beings, hungry for blood and power and disgusting. They could not sleep, tolerate human food, tell the difference between right and wrong, no sense of morals and no sense of kindness; vampires never craved companionship.

Perhaps it was because Francis came from a human woman, instead of being bitten by a vampire like most. Arthur hadn’t known someone could be brought into this world with such a burden and continue to live with themselves, like Francis could. Maybe it was because Francis had grown up believing human morals, which also made him different from most vampires.

Whatever the true answer was, Francis wasn’t a true vampire, which in turn, made Arthur a non-true-vampire as well, whatever that meant. Knowing this information, it confused Arthur even further.

Arthur stepped into Francis’ dark bedroom, hearing soft sighs of sleep. _Vampires do not sleep._ He recalled his mother saying. _They are dead, in a sense; their bodies do not need rest in the same sense humans do._ Arthur sighed. And here Francis was, sleeping and snoring like a human. How could he and Francis sleep if they were dead? _Vampires only care about their next victim_ _’_ _s blood, that is their only motivation._ Sure, Francis planned ahead of time who he was going to kill, but he had reasons behind his motives. He murdered the mayor, Mister Smith, because he was taking the town’s money for her personal use. He killed Mrs. Smith because she had persuaded her husband to do so. Francis never killed for “blood” so he could live.

_We, people of magic, help monsters and Spirits find comfort and a home in their new life. We are the coping mechanism. But vampires, are the only beast who cannot be helped, and must be killed on the spot._  

Arthur sat on the edge of the bed and slowly brought his legs up, carefully slipping under the soft blankets. Francis rolled over immediately and clung to Arthur’s waist, still murmuring in his sleep. This was Francis’ most vulnerable moment, and Arthur felt that he really was a docile man deep down. Being alone for the majority of his life, took a toll on his mind, and Arthur understood it well. Ever since they began living under the same roof, Arthur’s thoughts almost cleared. The two of them now had someone to lean on, even if he was entirely sure what their relationship was. Who knew what Francis would’ve done this evening if Arthur hadn’t been there?

_Vampires are the only beasts who cannot be helped._

Arthur pulled the golden pendant out from under his shirt and thought for a moment. There was no guarantee that he’d fine Jeanne, but Francis had a point; he needed to at least _try._ Francis had already done so much for Arthur and he was now in his debt. Finding Jeanne would be the least he could do for him. Arthur took a deep breath and exhaled, carefully taking the pendant off of his neck and placing it on the bedside table.

* * *

 

**_Being possessed is as scary as it seems; it_ ** **_’_ ** **_s almost like dying, knowing that a Spirit is borrowing your body forever how long it desires. That in of itself, is not as scary as standing in an endless Void with other crying Spirits walking past you. All I could do in this moment was stand and watch the Voice control my body, screaming and thrashing about, hearing my brother shouting at my body._ **

**_“_ ** **_What the hell is wrong with you?!_ ** **_”_ ** **_Alistair shouted, inching himself away from my possessed body._ **

**“** **Le mort, le mort!** **Un douloureux, le mort** **é** **ternel pour nous tous!!** **”** **_the Voice cried._** **“** **Le mort, le mort!** **”** **_The Voice that was using my body clawed at my eyes, pulling the bottom eyelids down just slightly._** **“** **Ton fr** **è** **re tombera dans un morte immortel. Le morte l** **’** **attend. Le morte immortel!** **”** **_By this time, the rest of the children in the room had woken up and were gathering around my brothers, curious. The younger children were screaming, while the older ones stared in awe._**

**_“_ ** **_Arthur, stop it! You_ ** **_’_ ** **_re freaking us out!_ ** **_”_ ** **_Alistair yelled._ **

**_“_ ** **_Alistair,_ ** **_”_ ** **_Laughlin snapped, punching his shoulder._ ** **_“_ ** **_What the hell did you do?_ ** **_”_ **

**_“_ ** **_Nothing! He was being a twat as usual and then all of a sudden he_ ** **_…_ ** **_he_ ** **_…”_ ** **_my brother explained, stammering. The Voice dropped my body to the floor and let out a blood curdling scream, rolling around._ ** **_“_ ** **_Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Someone go get help!_ ** **_”_ **

**“** **Le mort! Le mort!** **”** **_it shrieked._** **“** **Le mort** **é** **ternel pour nous tous!!** **”**

**_“_ ** **_Is he speaking a different language?_ ** **_”_ ** **_someone asked._ **

**“** **Le mort** **é** **ternel pour nous tous!!** **”**

**_The door swung open and Miss Mary rushed over to where everyone was gathered, pushing through the children. In one hand, she held a candle in its holder while her other hand covered her gaping mouth._ ** **_“_ ** **_Oh, dear Lord._ ** **_”_ ** **_she gasped. She turned to Laughlin and Alistair, glaring at them._ ** **_“_ ** **_What is going on? Your brother can be a dangerous little boy; what did you do to provoke him?_ ** **_”_ ** **_Dylan pushed Miss Mary aside as he hurried to hide behind Laughlin. Meanwhile, the Voice that took my body was still screaming, banging itself against the bed frames._ **

**“** **Le mort! Le mort!** **”**

**_“_ ** **_The Voices were speaking to him again, Miss Mary,_ ** **_”_ ** **_Dylan explained, sheepishly._ ** **_“_ ** **_He wanted me to sing Mummy_ ** **_’_ ** **_s lullaby but I was sleepy and_ ** **_…”_ ** **_As he spoke, tears slowly raced down his cheeks and he took quick gasps between words._ ** **_“_ ** **_It_ ** **_’_ ** **_s_ ** **_…_ ** **_al-all_ ** **_…_ ** **_my fault, Miss Mary._ ** **_”_ **

**_“_ ** **_Dylan, we_ ** **_’_ ** **_ve all been through this; the Voices don_ ** **_’_ ** **_t exist._ ** **_”_ ** **_Alistair hissed._ **

**_“_ ** **_Yes they do, Alistair!_ ** **_”_ ** **_Dylan cried, pointing to my possessed body._ ** **_“_ ** **_There_ ** **_’_ ** **_s proof!_ ** **_”_ **

**_“_ ** **_Boys!_ ** **_”_ ** **_Miss Mary hollered._ ** **_“_ ** **_We will settle whoever provoked your brother once we get rid of the spirit that took over his body._ ** **_”_ ** **_She crossed her arms._ ** **_“_ ** **_Alistair, sing your mother_ ** **_’_ ** **_s lullaby._ ** **_”_ **

**_“_ ** **_I don_ ** **_’_ ** **_t even remember the stupid_ ** **_—“_ **

**_“_ ** **_Sing it! Maybe it will bring him back._ ** **_”_ ** **_Miss Mary scolded._ ** **_“_ ** **_Be sure to hug him too; he misses the affection your mother used to give._ ** **_”_ ** **_Alistair made a face._ **

**_“_ ** **_Are you kidding? How am I supposed to calm him down when he_ ** **_’_ ** **_s thrashing about?_ ** **_”_ ** **_he muttered._ **

**_“_ ** **_Stop complaining and just do it! If you really care about him like you always claim you do, then you_ ** **_’_ ** **_ll do this without thinking._ ** **_”_ ** **_Miss Mary sighed. Alistair relented and knelt beside my body, opening his arms wide._ **

**_“_ ** **_Arthur,_ ** **_”_ ** **_he said, softly._ ** **_“_ ** **_If you can hear me, you_ ** **_’_ ** **_ll stop this nonsense and give me a hug._ ** **_”_ **

**“** **Le mort!** **”** **_the Voice hissed._**

**_“_ ** **_Arthur, please._ ** **_”_ ** **_Alistair begged._ **

**_“_ ** **_Alistair, sing the lullaby!_ ** **_”_ ** **_Laughlin shouted._ **

**_“_ ** **_I don_ ** **_’_ ** **_t remember the damn melody! You do it!_ ** **_”_ ** **_Alistair spat back. Laughlin sighed, shaking his head as he lightly hummed the melody. The soothing melody coaxed me back towards my body and I caught a glimpse of the spirit that possessed me. She looked like a young girl, around Laughlin_ ** **_’_ ** **_s age and wore a depressed expression on her face. Her neck had a swollen bite mark, it looked like it could_ ** **_’_ ** **_ve been from a dog, and the top of her dress was covered in blood. She gave me a solemn look as she took my hand and guided me back to reality, her blonde hair drooping over her sullen eyes._ **

**_“_ ** **Lully, lullay, Thou little tiny Child; bye, bye, lully, lullay.** **”** **_Alistair sang, cautiously._** **“** **O sisters too, how may we do. This poor youngling, for whom we do sing, bye bye, lully, lullay.** **”** **_The girl_** **_’_ ** **_s image slowly faded away as my eyes fluttered open, seeing Alistair_ ** **_’_ ** **_s face. I was in his arms, being rocked back and forth, seeing Laughlin and Dylan beside him. Their eyes brightened up as they saw me slowly regain consciousness._ ** **“** **That woe is me, poor Child for Thee! And ever mourn and sigh,** **”** **_Miss Mary sighed with relief, her smile beaming at me as Alistair continued to sing. I glanced up to look at him, watching tears gather in his eyes._** **“** **For thy parting neither say nor sing,** **”** **_The girl stood next to my brothers, staring at me as if I could help her. I opened my mouth to speak, but she held up her index finger over her cracked lips and shook her head. She then gave a soft smile and disappeared in a blink of an eye while Laughlin pushed my hair back. I closed my eyes again as Alistair finished the last phrase:_ **

**“** **Bye, bye, lully, lullay.** **”**


	7. Reunion

**_The orphanage had changed after the night I was possessed. The other children avoided my brothers and me, murmuring quietly whenever we walked past them. Laughlin refused to let me out of his sight; he held onto my hand tightly, squeezing so hard he almost broke my fingers. Laughlin forced Dylan and I to sit on his bed while Alistair kept his distance away from us. I felt awful that morning, watching my eldest brother sit in sadness as he stayed in the corner, observing the three of us ‘bond’._ **

**_“Why won’t Alistair come and join us?” I asked, clinging to my stuffed bunny._ **

**_“He’s being punished.” Laughlin answered, simply._ **

**_“But why?” I questioned, stretching out my legs. “He saved me in the end.”_ **

**_“Only because he was forced to,” Laughlin added. “If it were up to him, he wouldn’t have.”_ **

**_“That’s not true, Laughlin.” I mumbled._ **

**_“That’s because you’re naïve.” Dylan remarked. “Alistair waited a while until he sang Mummy’s lullaby.” I buried my face into the stuffed bunny’s fur, pouting._ **

**_“Perhaps he was scared.” I defended. “I let the girl take me away.” Dylan’s eyes widened._ **

**_“It was a girl who possessed you?” he asked, intrigued. “Was she pretty?”_ **

**_“Dylan.” Laughlin hissed._ **

**_“She was covered in blood.” I answered. “Her neck was swollen from a bite.”_ **

**_“Oohh,” Dylan whistled. “Maybe a vampire got her!”_ **

**_“Enough, Dylan!” Laughlin snapped. “Let’s not make Arthur relive what he saw last night.”_ **

**_“I don’t mind.” I assured. I turned to my brother, smiling slightly. “She was pretty though, even though she had blood all over her.”_ **

**_“Have you ever seen Mummy?” Dylan asked._ **

**_“Dylan!” Laughlin yelled, smacking Dylan’s head. “I said enough! You know we don’t speak of Mum, it’s disrespectful!”_ **

**_“Is it?” I asked, sliding of the bed. Laughlin glared at me as I began to walk away._ **

**_“Arthur, stay here!” he shouted._ **

**_“I think Mummy wants us to remember her.” I added, ignoring Laughlin’s demands. I walked towards Alistair, smiling at him. He gave me a sad look, turning himself away from me and facing the window. I climbed up onto the window sill next to him, kicking my legs back and forth. “You can come and play with us.”_ **

**_“No, Arthur.” Alistair mumbled. “I can’t.”_ **

**_“Yes you can, you just won’t. I replied, looking down. I leaned against his arm, watching the other children race around the room, laughing and cheering. “You helped me, Alistair.” Alistair closed his eyes and sighed._ **

**_“I know.” he responded, shifting slightly so I could be more comfortable. “I know.” He glanced over at me, smiling gently. “I walked to Miss Mary last night once you calmed down.” he continued. “This isn’t a good place for you to grow up, Arthur; you deserve someone who understands you and will raise you well. Laughlin and I aren’t capable of doing that. If Mum were still around, maybe things…” His voice trailed away as he turned his face to hide the fact that he was fighting tears. “Maybe things wouldn’t be so fucked up.” I stared at him, watching him try to laugh his sadness away. “You’re the only one who could see her again, Arthur. If you do, promise me that you’ll tell her that we miss her?”_ **

**_“And love her?” I added. Alistair nodded._ **

**_“Yes, and love her.”_ **

**_The door creaked open and Miss Mary stepped in with Mrs. Haakonsson behind her. Her eyes went straight towards me as she smiled warmly, walking over. “Arthur, darling, I’ve some good news for you.” she said, kneeling beside me. “Mrs. Haakonsson has agreed to take care of you.” I peered past her to see Mrs. Haakonsson smiling brightly._ **

**_“I’m going to be your mother, sweetie.” she clarified. “Isn’t that wonderful?” Before I could reply, Laughlin marched over towards us, Dylan stumbling behind him, and pulled me close to him._ **

**_“Are you adopting us as well?” he demanded, scowling. Mrs. Haakonsson frowned._ **

**_“I am afraid not; my husband and I only have room for one.” she explained._ **

**_“Then you can’t have Arthur; you’re not splitting us up!” Laughlin shouted. “We may not be the kindest family to each other, but we share blood! That’s what will keep us together!”_ **

**_“Laughlin, stop making a fool out of yourself.” Alistair hissed. “It’s time we do what’s best for Arthur’s sake.”_ **

******_“So that’s it, you’re just going to let this woman take him away?!” Laughlin argued._ **

**_“What about me? Do I get a new Mummy?” Dylan asked._ **

**_“You will_ ** **not _get a new Mummy; just like she’s not Arthur’s mother.” Laughlin snapped. “All of us need a new home; Arthur isn’t any more special than the rest of us.”_**

**_“Yes, he is, Laughlin!” Alistair yelled, pushing Laughlin down. “You saw what happened last night; he has gifts that we can’t help him grow in! As a family, we have to make a sacrifice.” Alistair sighed, glancing at me. “Both of you, say your goodbyes.”_ **

**_“Alistair—“ Laughlin began._ **

**_“Say your goodbyes!” Dylan stepped around Laughlin and hugged me tightly, sniffing._ **

**_“One day, we’ll see each other and won’t recognize each other. We’ll be big, strong men who have lots of money!” he said, patting my head. “I’m going to miss you Arthur. Don’t ever forget me!” I giggled, squirming out of his hold._ **

**_“I won’t!” I replied, laughing. I looked at Laughlin, who was still giving Alistair glares and clenching his fists. I rushed towards him, hugging him as tightly as Dylan had to me. “I’m going to miss you the most, Laughlin!”_ **

**_“Oi!” Dylan cried._ **

**_“I’m going to miss you a lot too, Arthur.” Laughlin mumbled into my shoulder. “Promise me you’ll be safe and grow up to be a good man.”_ **

**_“I promise.” I agreed, pulling away. I turned to Alistair, who usually stoic in emotional situations, looked down to me, with a proud smile. I hugged his leg, looking up to him. “Thank you, Alistair.” I cheered. “You’re not so bad after all.”_ **

**_“Yes, yes.” he grumbled, kneeling to my height. For the first time in months, Alistair pulled me in for a hug, squeezing me tight. “Whatever you do, never call_ ** **her _Mummy or Mum. Those names are already taken.”_**

**_“What do I call her then?” I asked, fidgeting._ **

**_“Whatever she wants you to call her. Do not call her Mummy, understood?” he repeated. He pushed me away and sighed, scowling at Mrs. Haakonsson. “Take good care of him, you hear? I don’t want hime to grow us as some criminal or something. Understood?”_ **

**_“Yes, of course I will raise your brother with care.” Mrs. Haakonsson assured, with a bright smile. “I’ve always wanted a son or a daughter; you have nothing to worry about, Alistair.” Alistair nodded._ **

**_“Good.” he muttered. He gave me one last glance before pushing me forward. Go, before I change my mind.” Mrs. Haakonsson offered me her hand, beaming with her smile. I gladly took her hand and followed her out of the orphanage, not once taking a moment to look back._ **

* * *

 

Francis awoke the next morning to an empty bed; Arthur was nowhere to be found. He gently pushed the thick blanket aside, standing up and opened the bedroom door. He looked both directions as he stepped out of the room, worried. “Arthur?” Francis called, letting his hand drape over the stair railing. He heard a distant groan coming from one of the guest rooms down the hall. Francis sleepily shuffled down the hallway, turning into the room where the door was wide open.

There Arthur was, lying on the guest bed, groaning in pain as he rolled around a bit. He held his head, his hands covering his ears. “What is the matter? Nightmares?” Francis asked, yawning.

“Voices.” Arthur answered, rolling over. “Voices from the Void.” Francis’ eyes lit up.

“Have you found Jeanne?!” he exclaimed.

“Trying to.” Arthur replied, wincing. “It would be much easier if They’d all shut up.” Francis sat on the edge of the bed next to him, gently stroking his hair in hopes to soothe him. “I’m sorry that I left the room; I didn’t want to bother you while you were sleeping.”

“You wouldn’t have,” Francis said. “I’m a very deep sleeper.” Arthur chuckled lightly.

“I figured as much since I left the room screaming in agony.” he murmured, sitting up.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” Francis offered.

“Some tea would be fantastic. Herbal is preferable. It’ll ease the pounding headache I have at the moment.” Francis smirked.

“I’m still not sure if your body can handle human foods yet; drinking tea might make you violently ill.” he sighed, patting his back. “Perhaps you should put the pendant back on? I don’t want you to suffer for my sake. Besides, today will the first day I will send you back to town.” Arthur glared at him.

“You are pulling my leg.” Arthur murmured. Francis narrowed his eyes in confusion.

“No, I’m sitting here talking to you. I’m not pulling anything.” Francis said, befuddled. “You’re going to make an appearance, but of course, you’ve got to look like you’ve escaped a monster.” He sighed. “It’s too bad; you’re clothing is quite nice. It’s a shame we have to ruin it for show.”

“Francis, this is not going to work.” Arthur grumbled. “You just said that I can’t even drink tea without being ill; I most likely won’t be able to pass as a human.”

“No, no, it will work! You’ll go to your house and see Lukas, because he is living there and—“

“They gave Lukas _my_ house?!” Arthur shouted, flinching at his own voice. “These people aren’t capable of anything, are they?!”

“Well, I did murder the mayor, so they do not have someone making the _best_ decisions right now because of it…” Francis’ voice trailed off. “But trust me, this plan will work!”

“No, I’ll step right into that house and Lukas’ll kill me on the spot. He’ll be _that_ quick in sensing that I’ve turned.” Arthur added.

“But you two are family, you said so yourself.” Francis argued.

“Only by law,” Arthur corrected. “Not by blood.” Francis rolled his eyes.

“Sometimes those who are not related to us are better family members than those who are.” he mumbled. “You two grew up together, no? Lukas will not be able to kill his cousin, not right away at least. He may be a ruthless vampire hunter, but he will struggle with the fact that his cousin is one.” Francis smirked, pleased with himself. “Do you understand?” Arthur narrowed his eyes and shook his head.

“I’ll go, but don’t make any assumptions that I will be back.” he sighed, standing up. He stretched his arms a bit and slowly limped out of the room, moving to the other and picked up his pendant. Francis went downstairs, opening a drawer and pulling out a jar, dipping his hand in the red liquid. Arthur soon joined him, tying the pendant around his neck.

“Arthur,” he muttered, grinning. “Turn around.”

“What fo—?” Arthur began, spinning around. His sentence was cut off quickly when Francis slapped him, smearing blood all over his face.

* * *

 

Lukas had always been a strange, eccentric person. He was rather distant amongst his peers in school, keeping to himself during the lunch hour and recess. He recalled having friends, but they were more of acquaintances. Instead of letting loneliness settle in, Lukas turned to magic, speaking with the Spirits in the Void and freeing them from the eternal prison. Lukas had a better handle of the Supernatural than reality.

Though, there was one person he felt he had a strong connection with; the only person who understood him. Arthur.

He and Arthur grew up together, in a way; Lukas typically only saw Arthur on holidays when his family visited London. They did magic together, secretly stealing his aunt’s magic book to try to summon Spirits. That was before they knew that in general, Spirits could not be summoned, unless there was some kind of ‘bait’.

Yes, Arthur was a close friend and it nearly broke Lukas’ heart that Arthur could quite possibly be dead.

It was a new day, with the usual overcast back over the skies. A day in which Lukas was preparing himself for another round of interrogations of the village people, taking notes from their statements. Though he was knew that Francis Bonnefoy was the culprit, he had to have enough proof to show people without magic that he was correct. But Lukas was sure Francis was guilty as ever; he could sense it in his aura and smell it on his breath. Lukas finished his breakfast and placed the dirty dishes in the sink when he heard the front door creak open. He placed his hand over his belt, where he kept a weapon at all times and quickly spun around for a surprise.

“Arthur?” he asked, relieved. Arthur smiled back and carefully limped towards him. His clothing was torn, covered in dirt and sweat; his hair tussled and greasy, his face smeared with dried blood. Lukas smiled in relief, happy to see his true friend again and pulled Arthur in for a hug, only to be disappointed.

Arthur’s aura was completely off.

“What are the odds of us seeing each other these days?” Arthur asked, chuckling. “How are you, Lukas?” Lukas pulled away quickly and stepped back, staring at Arthur with narrowed eyes. “Lukas? Is everything alright?”

Arthur’s scent was disturbing, sour even.

“I am well,” Lukas replied, his tone sounding skeptical. “I already have my suspicions for the vampire case.” Arthur swallowed and forced a smile.

“That’s just like you; whatever took me weeks or months to learn and understand only took you a few days.” he said, cheerfully. “Who is your primary suspect, then?” Lukas turned away and sat down at the small kitchen table.

“Francis Bonnefoy.” Lukas answered, reaching for a few papers.

“Mister Bonnefoy? You think _he’s_ the vampire?” Arthur said, stunned. “Do you know how much he’s helped this town?”

“All the more to suspect him.” Lukas added. “Arthur, you were held hostage, yes? How did you escape? Did you see your kidnapper’s face?”

“I did not,” Arthur muttered. “All I remember is escorting Mrs. Smith to her home, then we were ambushed. I woke up in a dark room. I was there for what I imagined to be a month I suppose, and then I was set free for no reason.”

“And you were able to find your way back? Using magic?” Lukas questioned, folding his hands in his lap.

“Of course.” Arthur replied. Lukas nodded, swallowing.

“Perhaps you should take a bath, Arthur. I am sure you want to be clean as soon as possible.” he mumbled, gently. “I will interrogate you when the day is over, after I have finished my tasks.”

“Thank you, Lukas.” Arthur responded, patting Lukas’ shoulder lightly. “I can always count on you to treat me with kindness.” Lukas nodded once more, watching Arthur climb the small set of stairs to the bathroom. He stood up, gather his things and pulling his coat off of the coat rack. As he stepped outside, he clenched his fists together and bit down on his lip.

Arthur’s scent was undoubtedly a vampire’s scent, and Lukas would have to get his revenge on Francis Bonnefoy sooner than initially planned.

* * *

 

**_Mrs. Haakonsson’s house sat on top of a hill, the last house in a row of the street. It was very small and quaint, with a huge store window that advertised her business for magic, healings and potions. She opened the door and gently tugged my hand, leading me inside. “When Miss Mary informed me of your incident, I came to the orphanage straight away.” Mrs. Haakonsson said. “Luckily enough, my sister-in-law is visiting with her son, so she was able to keep the business open while I was gone.” I let my eyes gloss over my new surroundings, catching a glimpse of a woman and a little boy sitting in a corner. The mother was casting spells left and right, causing the boy to smile faintly. “Jelena,” Mrs. Haakonsson called, gently. The mother turned and stood up, grinning._ **

**_“Is this the little boy you told me about?” she asked, in a very strange accent.” Jelena asked. She smiled at me. “Hello, dear. I am your aunt, Aunt Jelena. My son is your age.” She stepped aside. “He’s sitting right over there; he’s learning English so he may not understand you very well, sweetie.”_ **

**_“Maybe you can say hello after you’ve had a bath, Arthur.” Mrs. Haakonsson said, patting my head. “You will need a haircut as well. My husband will do that when he’s back from work.” She chuckled to herself and scooped me up into her arms, carrying me as she walked up the staircase. At the top of the stairs, she turned to her right, walking down a short hallway and turned into a bathroom. She carefully set me down and began preparing the bathtub. “Arthur, why don’t you start taking you clothes off?”_ **

**_“But then I’ll be naked.” I said. Mrs. Haakonsson chuckled, turning around. She lifted my shirt over my head and tossed it aside._ **

**_“How else are you going to get clean, silly?” she teased, tickling my bare stomach. I giggled, pushing her hands away from me. She sighed, frowning. “And look how thin you are.” She murmured, letting a thumb caress my cheek. “Come along; the bath is almost warm.” I nodded, watching her dip her fingers into the water to check the temperature. I gently placed my pants in the corner and stepped closer to the tub, peering over the edge. “Are you ready?”_ **

**_“Mm-hm.” I agreed, nodding. She gently lifted me up and set my in the warm water. I shivered a bit, my body shocked from the heat of the bath water. I couldn’t remember the last time I bathed; it was probably the last time I saw Mummy._ **

**_It took several minutes until I was all clean; the water had turned to a dirty, muddy colour by the time Mrs. Haakonsson had taken me out and wrapped me up in towels. She led me to a small room, my bedroom, and opened a drawer, pulling out clothes. “Since Lukas is staying here for a while, I think it is best that you borrow some of his clothes.” she explained. “You two are about the same size, anyway.” She turned and helped me get dressed into my new clothes._ **

**_“Mrs. Haakonsson,” I chirped, playing with the buttons on my shirt. “What am I to call you now?” She smiled and kissed my forehead._ **

**_“How does Mamma sound to you?” she answered, grinning. I smiled back._ **

**_“That sounds good.” I answered, bouncing a little. Once I was dressed, I raced in front of her back downstairs, seeing the little boy still sitting in the corner. I froze, staring at him with curiosity, and felt a hand tap my shoulder._ **

**_“Say hello.” Mamma muttered. “Or_ ** **god dag _.” She walked past me and to the front counter where Aunt Jelena was with a customer. I timidly approached Lukas, who was muttering to himself. I sat down next to him, watching him staring at a tiny creature dancing around in the palm of his hand._**

**_“Um, hello.” I said, softly. Lukas looked up and stared, waiting. I waved a bit and smiled. “Um, good dog?” I added, trying to mimic what Mamma told me minutes prior. Lukas raised an eyebrow, his expression softening a bit._ **

**_“_ ** **God dag. _” He answered._**

**_“My name is Arthur. Mamma told me your name is Lukas?” I mumbled, nervous. “We’re cousins now.”_ **

**_“Arthur.” Lukas muttered, nodding slowly. He began to smile and scooted towards me. “We are cousins!” he repeated, somewhat cheerfully. “Arthur! See!” he grabbed my hand and showed me the tiny spirit fluttering in his hand. “See! See! A fairy!” The fairy creature jumped from his hand to mine, spinning and dancing once again._ **

**_“This is a fairy?” I asked._ **

**_“_ ** **Ja, ja! _” Lukas cheered. “Magic! We have magic!”  We laughed together, watching the fairy fly around us and dance for us. Soon, Lukas had summoned two other fairies and they were flying all throughout the house. Mamma and Aunt Jelena had closed the shop, sitting down besides us as well, telling the fairies that it was time for to go back to their home. Aunt Jelena pulled me into her lap, patting my head._**

**_“You know, Lukas is a very serious, mysterious boy. Even I cannot make him smile often,” she whispered in my ear. “I am so happy that you two have become friends; Lukas does not get along with other children, even those who speak Norwegian like him.” Jelena laughed and turned towards Mamma. “I think we will have to watch out for these two,_ ** **ja _? They might be trouble makers.” They both laughed simultaneously as Lukas flashed a small smile at me, holding another fairy in his hand; I smiled back as I realized that he wasn’t just my cousin._**

**_He was my brother._ **

* * *

 

Arthur had forgotten how much he loved his tiny, cozy house. Francis’ mansion was plush, cushy and comfortable, but it lacked something that Arthur’s house made up for. Arthur remembered how much time he spent fixing the house after he purchased it, decorating it with simple curtains and furniture. He would hate to see the house go to waste. Perhaps this new plan of Francis’ would work after all.

The Englishman closed the bathroom door behind him and began preparing the bath, taking the herbal mixture Francis gave him to help ease the sting of the water. Arthur was thrilled to get the dirt and old blood off of him, to smell decent once again. Arthur dipped his hands in the water, cupping them together and brought the water up to his neck. The water ran over his mostly healed wound, causing the magic Arthur had used to hide its presence. The sensation sent chills down his spine; Arthur shuddered and unbuttoned his shirt, tossing it to the side and pulled the pendant off. He carefully set the golden necklace on the window sill and as he unbuckled his belt, he froze. There was a presence in the room, a presence he hadn’t felt in years.

“ _Le mort._ ”

He heard a whisper behind him. Arthur drew in a quick breath, stiffening his shoulders. He cautiously turned his head to look over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of a young girl standing by the sink. _It can’t be._ He thought to himself. But of course it was her; Arthur could never forget a face like that. She was in the same dress as before, a white collared dress that was soaked in blood, her neck swollen, and her eyes cold and sullen. Frightened, Arthur stepped back as she slowly approached him, her arms stretched outward, reaching towards him. “What do you want?!” Arthur cried out. He slipped and fell backwards into the tub, water spilling out of the tub. She was so close, her hands centimeters away from his face. “Get back! Leave me alone!” he shouted, trying his best to get away from her as possible. But, alas, it was useless. The girl reached for him, her thumbs gently pressing against his temples.

“ _Bonjour,_ ” she whispered, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Arthur.” 


	8. Aider

“ _Aider moi._ ”

Help me.

After a most unpleasant bath, Arthur quickly dressed himself, stealing some of Lukas’ clothes that were still packed in a suitcase in the bedroom, and bolted out of the cottage. Of all of the Voices in the Void, she _had_ to come back to haunt him. And even worse, she knew his name.

Arthur never quite understood why she came to him in the first place; she never spoke English, and all she did was stand before him and scream at him. Crying out foreign words at him, reaching out to him, taking his body. Of all the Spirits he had met in his life, she was certainly the worst.

“ _Aider moi_ ,” she said, again. She followed him into the forest, trying to grab his hand and pull him back. “Arthur, _aider moi. S’il te pl_ _â_ _it._ ”

Help me. Please.

From her touch, she had managed to cast her own magic in Arthur’s mind which translated her words as she spoke. It was helpful, now that Arthur could understand her to a certain degree, but she still disturbed him, with her neck wound and her blood stained dress. As he ran in the direction of the mansion, the girl would appear in front of him from time to time, giving a few scares and stumbles. Her pleas and cries became more vicious as she chased him, anger filling her face. “ _Aider moi,_ Arthur! _Aider moi!_ ”

“I don’t know how!” Arthur shouted back, running past her. “I thought I helped you years ago, after you had possessed my body!”

“ _Sauver moi._ ” she replied, grabbing Arthur’s wrist, glaring at him. “ _Aider moi._ ”

Save me. Help me.

They ran deeper into the forest, Arthur tripping over his own feet and tree roots as he soon came upon the mansion’s doorstep, forcing himself in and slamming the door behind him. He had never felt more terrified in his life; the girl who had taken over him as a child was chasing him, torturing him. Asking for help. Growing up, he had worked so hard to rid his fear of the Voices, to rid his nightmares of the girl who screamed at him from the Void. Seeing her once again only made his childhood fears surface once more. He slumped against the closed door, letting out a sigh of relief as he crumbled to the floor. _She’s gone._ He muttered to himself. He was relieved for a few minutes, until he felt someone cradling his jaw in their hands. “Arthur,” Arthur’s eyes quickly opened wide and there she was, her face centimeters away from his. “ _Aider moi!_ ”

“W-what do you want from me?” Arthur stammered, pressing himself up against the door even more. “You have to meet me halfway if I am to help you.”

“ _Aider moi_.” she repeated.

“Don’t you understand me? Or did you give that power away when you touched my forehead moments ago?” he asked. The girl stared back at him blankly, her eyes darting back and forth slightly. “Can you tell me your name?”

“ _Je ne souviens pas._ ” she answered.

“How do you not remember your own name?! That is but a simple—“ Arthur froze, frowning. “You poor thing, you’ve been in the Void for too long, haven’t you? It’s been eating you away.”

“ _Aider moi._ ”

“Do you remember anyone else then?” Arthur continued. “A-a friend or a family member? A loved one?”

“ _Je ne souviens pas! Aider moi!_ ”

“Surely, you must remember something.”

“ _Non. Aider moi._ ” Arthur shook his head.

“Then I cannot help you. I’m sorry.” he murmured. “Perhaps you should ask Lukas; he is often better with Spirits like you.” The girl scowled, rambling off too quickly for her shared power to translate her words. “I’m sorry, but without your—“

“ _Aider moi,_ Arthur Kirkland! _J’ai n’a pas d’autres!”_

Help me. I have no one else.

Arthur swallowed and relaxed his shoulders a bit, locking his eyes with the girl. It was clear that she was desperate, and Arthur knew that if he did not help her soon, she would never be able to remember who she once was, and would become a wandering spirit for eternity. He scooted closer to her, cautiously, and sighed. “Are you sure that there is nothing you can recall from your life?” he asked. The girl stared at him blankly, nodding slowly. “You don’t remember how long you’ve been in the Void? You can’t remember what you’ve been searching for?” She shook her head once more. Arthur bowed his head for a moment, thinking. He lifted his hands and hesitantly reached for her forehead. “I will have to read any memories left behind in your mind. M-may I?” he explained. The girl only smiled and nodded, closing her eyes. Arthur drew in a breath and gently placed his thumbs on her temples, closing his eyes as well, chanting under his breath until the girl’s memories filled his mind, acting out like a play.

* * *

 

_It was not long before I realized that my father was not a kind man, despite what Maman claimed. Though my father was kind to me as soon as I settled in, by giving me books and treats I wanted to help beat my cabin fever; he only bared his fangs at me when I refused to listen to what he said. I often refused to complete my English studies, and my father threatened to make me go to bed without a meal. Of course, my cravings for blood never ceased, especially during the day, and I would have close to six to meals per day. Besides that fact, my father treated me with kindness, but that was it; he never treated anyone else with respect._

_My father disliked villagers visiting his house, in fact, he discouraged them from ever arriving at his doorstep. He used fear to get what he wanted; the villagers were aware of what he was, and if they stepped out of line, he never hesitated to kill them. I caught onto this trait whenever the mail carrier came to the mansion when a month passed since I moved in. My father ordered me to stay back, because if I got a whiff of human scent, even he wouldn’t be able to stop my madness. I hid by the corner from the parlor, watching my father as he opened the door, revealing a small man with a bag draped over his shoulder._

_“Oh! Good afternoon, Monsieur Bonnefoy.” The man greeted. “I apologise for bothering you, but I thought you would like to know that—“_

_“I believe I’ve made it clear to the village that there are to be no visitors at my estate.” My father said, his voice booming in the foyer. The man took a step back, trembling._

_“_ Je suis desoleé, _Monsieur, but I believe my visit is urgent.” he continued. “I was sorting through your mail and well, there is a letter from your wife.”_

_“How many times must I tell you that I am not married!” my father yelled._

_“D-desole_ _é_ _, Monsieur.”_

_“Discard the letter at once, along with the others. Just like usual.” My father ordered. “Good day, Pierre.”_

_“Papa, wait!” I shouted, stepping out from my hiding spot. Pierre’s eyes widened._

_“Papa? He called you P-papa?” he stammered, his eyes darting back and forth between my father and I. “You have a son?”_

_"You keep this news to yourself, Pierre. No one in the village is to know that I have a son.” My father hissed. He looked over his shoulder, glaring. “Francis! What did I tell you? Mind your own—“_

_“Don’t discard Maman’s letter!” I cried. “It could be for me!” My father paused for a moment, keeping his head low as he thought. He then outstretched his hand and glared at the mail carrier._

_“Give me the letter.”_

_“Oui_ , _Monsieur.” Pierre pulled out a small, white envelope and gently placed it into my father’s hand._

_“Now,” My father grumbled through gritted teeth. “Good day, Pierre.” He slammed the door shut and I rushed towards him, yanking the envelope from him. “Francis, you’ve got to learn to listen to me! You could’ve easily lashed out at the man in blind madness!”_

_“It is a letter for me! Look!” I cheered, ripping the envelope open. Tiny pieces of paper fell to my feet as I yanked the paper out of its carrier and unfolded it. My mother’s beautiful, cursive writing filled the page from top to bottom; just seeing the swirly letters made me homesick. Just from holding the letter, I could smell the musky scent of our cottage and the faint scent of Maman’s perfume. I sighed; I wish I could go and fix what I had done._

_My father stepped around me and looked over my shoulder. “Well, what does it say?” he asked. I let my eyes scan over the words as he leaned in closer, trying to read the loopy writing. He chuckled to himself. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen Genevi_ _è_ _ve’s handwriting; I can hardly read it.”_

_“She’s telling me about Jeanne’s case.” I mumbled, letting my shoulders slump a little._

_“Who’s Jeanne?” my father asked. I only glanced up at him for an answer, re-reading some of the words. “Ah, your friend who was your first victim.” he then reminded himself. “How’s her family?”_

_“She didn’t have one,” I corrected. “She was at the Catholic school ever since she was a baby; the nuns found her sitting on the church’s doorstep, crying.” I paused. “Maman says that they’re searching for the murderer, and that they believe that I’ve been kidnapped.” I added, keeping my voice low. “I guess it’s true, I kidnapped myself.”_

_“You kidnapped no one, Francis.” My father corrected._

_“Perhaps, but I’m still a killer.” I mumbled._

_“You’re a vampire,” my father sighed. “Instincts sometimes get the best of us.” He patted my back. “Do they have any leads?”_

_“No.” I replied. I folded the letter and stuffed in into my pocket. “All they have is the bite-mark on her neck and her shrivel—“ I choked; my stomach lurched at the thought of what I had done to my beloved friend. The vivid imagery that memory possessed was far too graphic, worse than any nightmare._

_“Francis, it’s alright; you’ll soon get used to it. I did, and I was several years younger than you were when I took my first victim.” My father assured. “All you can hope for is that she is resting in peace.” He patted my head before stepping away. He let out a deep sigh and walked into the living room, is hands stuffed in his pockets._

_"What if they start to suspect Maman?” I asked. He laughed._

_"Your mother, a killer?” he joked. “Genevi_ _è_ _ve can barely swat a fly, let alone kill it.”_

_“That may be true, but don’t you think people will put one and one together?” I continued, following him. “A murder happened years ago that was left unsolved because of you, and you disappeared after it happened. A month ago, I murdered my best friend and I disappear shortly after. Won’t people be suspicious of her?” My father smirked._

_“Francis, Francis, Francis,” he mused. He sat down on the couch and leaned against the arm rest, propping his chin up in his palm. He flashed a devilish grin and chuckled. “You’re giving humans the benefit of the doubt.”_

* * *

 

The girl’s memories were jumbled around, broken into pieces that were scattered about. Arthur watched memories of when she was a child, playing with the other children at school, several memories of her sitting in Mass, nuns reading her stories from the bible before going to bed. Each of the memories were seen from the girl’s point of view, how she saw the world and how she saw her friends. There really was no connection between the memories except there was a boy who appeared in almost every single one. He seemed vaguely familiar; he had very blue eyes, thick, but neatly cut blond hair and a genuine smile. He and the girl often chased each other in the fields, lying in the grass and pointing out animals in the clouds. Arthur pulled his hands away and sighed.

She was right; she really couldn’t remember anything.

The girl stared at him, tilting her head slightly in confusion. “There’s nothing.” Arthur murmured, sadly. “I’m extremely sorry, I really am.” She looked down at her lap, biting her lip. She reached for Arthur’s hands again and pulled them back to her forehead.

“ _Une plus_.” she whispered. “ _Une plus._ ”

One more. One more.

Arthur sighed, fairly frustrated, and closed his eyes again. “Alright, but I really don’t think I will find something.” he mumbled. He casted the spell and her memories flooded his mind. The same ones appeared, the same faces, the same voices. Arthur was about to pull away when the girl held onto his wrists.

“ _Attender.”_  

Wait.

Arthur did so. A new memory emerged and once again, she and the boy were in the field, but the boy looked extremely sick. His eyes were sullen and droopy, with a red tint in his irises; his skin color was deathly pale, nearly translucent. The two were talking to each other like usual, sharing stories, laughing and enjoying the beautiful sunset. They both stood up, and the boy leaned in for a kiss. The memory went blank for a second, as she had closed her eyes, and the look in the boy’s eyes had changed. His expression was no longer cheery, but angry and well… _hungry_. Arthur heard the girl’s screams as the boy lunged after her, pinning her to the ground and licked his lips. “ _No, please, stop!_ ” The girl cried out, doing her best to push him off of her. It, of course, was no use. The boy was much stronger than her, despite his sickly looks, and leaned in closer. He bit her neck, tearing the flesh a bit. The girl was screaming in pain, still trying to push him off of her. The boy pulled away, his mouth covered in blood and his eyes staring down at her in fear. “ _Please! Stop!”_ She cried out again. He began shaking, as if he were trying to fight off the demon inside of him, but he leaned down once again and bit her multiple times, drinking her blood. The girl’s vision began to fade as her blood was drained from her, her voice hoarse as she tried to speak. “ _Francis…please…_ ” Once the boy had finished, he stared at her in horror, pressing his hands against her neck in attempt to stop the blood. He screamed, tears racing down his face: “ _Jeanne! I’m sorry! I-I didn’t mean—Jeanne! Can you hear me? Jeanne, Jeanne!_ ” Her eyes closed and the memory stopped there. Arthur drew in a quick breath, shocked.

“ _Aider moi._ ” Jeanne whispered, pulling away from Arthur. He looked back at her, watching the tears race down her cheeks and drip from her chin. “ _Je ne comprends pas._ ” Arthur took a hold of her hands, sighing.

“You’ve been looking for someone, haven’t you?” he asked. Jeanne looked at him, her expression lost, and she shrugged. “I can help you, Jeanne.” Her eyes lit up at the sound of her name.

“Jeanne…” she muttered, squeezing his hand a bit. “ _Oui, je m’appelle Jeanne_.” Arthur smiled.

“You remember now, don’t you?” he said. Jeanne nodded, smiling back. “Good, I’m glad.” He paused, staring at the wound on her neck. “Does it hurt? Your neck? Because…because I could heal it if you’d like?” She gently touched the wound, flinching a bit, and nodded. Arthur sighed and put his hands on top of hers. “This will only take a moment,” he whispered. “It may sting a little.” He mumbled a short healing spell under his breath, a dim light glowing underneath his hands. As he pulled away, her neck was healed; the swelling and bruising gone, the flesh back into its place, the bite-mark faded.

“ _Merci_ , Arthur.” she said, sighing with relief.

“Would you like to meet him?” Arthur asked.

“Hm?”

“Would you like to meet him? The boy from your memories?” Arthur clarified. “I know where he is; finding him again may help free you from the Void.” Jeanne blinked in confusion.

“ _Oui._ ” she agreed. “Take me to him, Arthur.” Arthur slowly stood up, taking her hand as well and opened the mansion door. Jeanne squeezed his hand and rested her forehead against his arm, muttering to herself over and over again as they wandered back into the forest:

“ _Le mort, le mort…_ ”

* * *

 

_The ticking sound from the grandfather clock echoed throughout the manor, accompanied along with the occasional shudder of a page turning from my father’s book. I sighed, writing down the English terms my father had ordered m to copy over and over until I understood them. My eyes felt droopy, my exhaustion was beginning to take over. I rested my head against my arm, letting the pen slip out of my finger tips and roll away from me. “Francis,” my father said, softly. “Have you learnt the words I gave you?” I didn’t reply, only pushing the pen further away with a gentle flick of my finger. “Francis, I asked you a question.”_

_“Shouldn’t I be going to school?” I asked, rubbing my eyes a bit._

_“You know why you can’t go to school.” My father answered, closing his book. “Besides, the school in the village is of no good.” I gave him a glare._

_“I wonder if it’s because someone won’t let anyone leave or enter the village.” I muttered._

_“I will ask you again, Francis. Have you learnt the words I gave you?”_

_“Sure.”_

_“Then I shall test you on the—“_

_My father’s sentence was cut short when an urgent sounding knock came from the front door. My father scowled and angrily placed his book on the table next to him. “What is with these people? They should know better than to come to my doorstep!” he growled, storming out of the library. Waiting a few seconds until he was out of my sight, I pushed out my chair and crept around the corner, watching him unlock the locks on the wooden door. “I don’t know who you are or what you want, but it is in the middle of the night and I don’t know what you think you are going to achieve by knocking on my—“ My father began, only to stop mid-sentence when he stared at the woman in shock. “Genevi_ _è_ _ve? What…what are you doing here?”_

_“I need a place to hide, Jacques.” Maman answered quickly, pushing him aside. “I’ve become a prime suspect for Jeanne’s murder.”_

_"We’ve discussed this, Genevi_ _è_ _ve. If Francis were to ever turn, he would stay here with me and you would handle things in your village, just like before when I left!” my father shouted, slamming the door._

_“I can’t, not this time.” Maman said, sighing. “Where’s Francis?”_

_“He’s fine; what we need to worry about at the moment is getting you back home.” My father gently touched her shoulders, turning her around. “You’ll find a way out of this, I’m sure of it.”_

_“They’ve condemned me to death, Jacques! There is no way out of this!” Maman yelled. She pulled herself away from my father, walking towards where I was hiding. “Where is Francis? I need to see him…”_

_“He’s in bed,” my father lied, pulling her back. “Genevi_ _è_ _ve, you’ve got to listen to me right now…”_

_“No, you listen to me! I am going to die! I am going to lose my head!” She ran her fingers through her thin hair. “Just let me stay here, with you and Francis. We can finally be the family we—“_

_“Could never be.” My father finished. “You know that.”_

_"But things have changed, have they not, Jacques? You’ve learned to control yourself and your hunger, I know you won’t hurt me.” She reached for his face, gently cradling his jaw with her palm. “I never understood why you did not turn me.” My father shook his head, sighing._

_“You can’t stay here, Genevi_ _è_ _ve, you can’t.” he mumbled. “I can never forgive myself for what I almost did to you…”_

_“Why?!!” she shouted, leaning her face into his. “I’ve spent my entire life lying to myself and to our son, but we can make up for it all now! We can be the family Francis needs! Doesn’t that matter to you?” She paused, biting her bottom lip, a sign that she was close to tears. “Or would you rather me die because of your mistakes?”_

_“Genevi_ _è_ _ve, you are a smart woman; you can trick your village into believing something else. You’ve done it before and you can do it again. But I can’t let you sta--” he said. Maman smacked him across the face and pushed past him towards the library. As she rushed past me, I grabbed her wrist. Her eyes lit up as she pulled me in for a hug._

_"Francis, look at you!” she said, wispily. She cradled my face and kissed both of my cheeks. “You’ve grown so much in the weeks since I saw you last! Look how tall you are! You’re beginning to take after your Papa.”_

_"Take me back home, Maman.” I interrupted. “I’ll explain everything and it’ll be me they execute.” Maman shook her head vigorously._

_“No, Francis. I will not let anything happen to you.” she replied._

_“And I’m not going to let my mother take the fall for me!” I hissed. Maman frowned and looked away, sighing. “Maman, I deserve to die.”_

_“No, no, that’s not true…” Maman answered. “Think of what Jeanne would want for you. She would want you to live.” I shook my head, laughing. I took her hands into mine and shook them. How could a mother be so naïve?_

_“No, she would want justice.” I argued. “The justice she deserves.”_

* * *

 

His next victim was a simple fact.

Francis stood in the centre of his new office in town, rummaging through the town’s records. He flipped through many pages in the leather bound books, keeping a smirk over his lips. The people in the quaint town were often sweet and genuine, but each of them kept a dark secret hidden beneath their skin. There was Mrs. Swanson, the wife of the butcher, who killed rats that infested her home and passes them off to be rabbit meat. Of course, this wasn’t in the record keeping books, but Francis had seen her and her husband on several accounts, skinning the rats as he happened to be passing by.

But, the Swansons weren’t the ones he was after. No, no, Francis’ new target was one who was very deserving, the man who unconsciously put Francis and his lover in danger. Of course, Francis could not kill him for personal vendettas; he had to find a reason to “justify” his murder. Francis licked his thumb and turned over a page, chuckling to himself.

“Monsieur Bonnefoy,” a voice called behind him. Francis furrowed his brow, confused; no one had ever called him ‘Monsieur’ before. He hadn’t even heard those two words mashed together since he had left France. Francis turned around to find Lukas scowling at him. “May I speak with you?”

“Of course,” Francis replied, cheerfully. He closed the book and set it aside. “How may I help you, Mister Bondevik?”

“I thought it would be interesting for you to know that Arthur Kirkland arrived at my doorstep this morning.” Lukas answered. Francis raised his eyebrows.

“My, that is great news! We must tell everyone at once!” he exclaimed.

“But does this not seem suspicious to you? It is almost as if someone purposefully released him from hostage as soon as I arrived, to throw me off track.” Lukas continued, stepping closer.

“Or perhaps you are thinking too much, no?” he mused. Lukas narrowed his eyes and clicked his tongue behind his teeth, making a ‘tsk’ sound.

“I should have expected as much from someone of the likes of you.” he hissed.

“Where is Mister Kirkland then I presume someone is caring for him?” Francis questioned.

“He is at my house, his cottage.” Lukas answered. “He did not behave like someone who had a traumatic experience, though he was drenched in blood and sweat.”

“But you still left him alone?” Francis shook his head. “You may dislike me all you want to, Lukas Bondevik, but it seems like you are the heartless one here, no? Leaving a poor man alone after being in horrid conditions.”

“Are you not listening? I know our accents are different but we are still speaking the same language, yes?” Lukas mocked. “Arthur did not act like someone who had been tortured. He did not even shed a single tear or cling to me in desperation.”

“And what, you think I had something to do with it?” Francis asked, laughing.

“I suspect as much!”

“Why? Because the ‘Spirits’ told you so?!” Francis smirked. “Don’t you think you are, how you say, jumping to conclusions, Mister Bondevik?” Lukas marched closer to Francis, leaning in close, only inches away from the Frenchman’s face.

“Let me make one thing clear, _Monsieur_ ; I know what you are. You are a vile entity that gives excuses to make their actions seen ‘just’. The Spirits in the Void speak the truth, because they are not fools like the rest of us, misguided by sweet, vile lies. They see right through us, they see us for who we are, and so do I.” Lukas turned around and moved towards the door, shooting a glare over his shoulder. “I would say that you do not have much longer to live, Mister Bonnefoy. I’d be very care of where you step.” Lukas exited the room and slammed the door behind him, leaving Francis once again alone in his office, chuckling to himself.

“Don’t you fret, Lukas,” he muttered. “I’m always very careful.”


	9. Ghouls

**_Lukas and his family came to England many times while I was growing up; my Momma gave us magic lessons to the both of us often while he stayed. Customers that walked through the front door were usually monstrosities; a woman came in last week telling us of all her transformations when the moon is full, eating her brothers and sisters alive when she was young. She came to the shop begging for something to make her human, because she had fallen deeply in love with a man and didn’t want to see him hurt because of her strange nature. Naturally, Momma had a potion for her, and anything else that customers needed. Momma was like a saint in many ways, despite her qualifications; she helped those who neglected and in need._ **

**_For the most part, Lukas and I were to stay put in the back room, brewing up potions for the magic shop. Typically, the both of us created healing potions for wounds or illnesses, but Lukas was always ahead of the game; he soon was able to create potions that would rid curses and birth defects. Lukas enjoyed reading the never ending pile of leather bound spell books in his spare time while I was doing what I was told; mixing herbs and muttering words as I stirred the pot. Lukas and I didn’t have to talk to each other like most kids do with friends; the quieter the room was, the closer we became. We were inseparable._ **

**_“There is someone following you, Arthur,” Lukas muttered. He was sitting on the counter next to me, swinging his legs back and forth with a book resting in his lap. I glanced up from the pot and shook my head. “Did you know that? She’s speaking to you right now.” I pulled the golden chain around my neck, revealing the pendent from underneath my shirt._ **

**_“I can’t hear anything with this on my neck.” I answered. Lukas closed the book shut and jumped off the desk, laughing. He slid his finger around the chain and gave it a teasing tug._ **

**_“When are you going to get rid of it? You are restricting your abilities\\.” Lukas said, poking fun. His eyes flickered over to something behind me, smiling. “Do you not want to see her? She really wants to see you.” I froze; if it was the girl, that “rebel” Voice from years ago, I wanted no part of it._ **

**_“I prefer making potions; it’s safe work.” I replied, pushing his hand away. “Open the book again and read me the spell again; I want to make sure I’ve done everything correctly before I make the seal.” Lukas rolled his eyes, moving to the other side of me. He grabbed the chain again, pulling harder this time, causing me to stumble a little. “Ow! Lukas!” I hissed, pushing him. “You know how I feel about speaking with the Spirits in the Void! If it’s the girl who nearly took my life when I was little, I do not want to see her.”_ **

**_“It is not a girl, it is a woman.” he clarified. He narrowed his eyes slightly. “She knows you very well.” I gave him a glare._ **

**_“Knows me? But I don’t know anyone who’s passed away!” I shouted. “That’s impossible, Lukas; make her go away.” I turned away from him and carefully poured the freshly brewed potion into a vile._ **

**_"You and I both know that there are Spirits trapped in the Void who recognize us when we were babies.” he added. He reached for a cork and plunged it into the vile. “Maybe it is a relative of some sort. D; make her go away.” I turned away from him and carefully poured the freshly brewed potion into a vile._ **

**_“You and I both know that there are Spirits trapped in the Void who recognize us when we were babies.” he added. He reached for a cork and plunged it into the vile. “Maybe it is a relative of some sort. A grandparent?”_ **

**_“With ties still connected to the earth? No. I never met my father and I have foggy memories of my Mummy.” I finished, placing the vile in a wooden crate. “I don’t know any relatives who quite possibly be in the Void.”_ **

**_“Come on, Arthur! You have to get rid of your fear!” Lukas teased. He pointed to the pendant. “Take it off, just to see her!”_ **

**_“No, Lukas!” I shouted, pushing him away. “Now shut it; Mamma will be mad if these potions aren’t completed.” Lukas stern, neutral facial expression was back as he climbed back onto the desk. He muttered under his breath in Norwegian, a typical sign that he was upset and bothered. “Don’t be angry with me. I don’t want to get in trouble with Mamma. I can’t stand listening to the Spirits’ cries when the pendant is off.”_ **

**_“Do not say Mamma, she says.” Lukas grumbled. I quickly spun around, staring at him._ **

**_“Excuse me?” I asked._ **

**_“The woman. She does not want you to call my aunt Mamma.” Lukas clarified. “She will never be your mother, she adds.” A vile slipped from my finger tips and the glass broke into several pieces, the potion spilling everywhere.”_ **

**_"Stop.” I said. “Just, stop.” Lukas flipped open the leather bound spell book and smirked._ **

**_“Perhaps it is time to say hello to Mummy again,” he muttered, swinging his legs back and forth.” Don’t you think?”_ **

* * *

 

**_As Lukas and I prepared for a bath that evening, I sat on my bed, twirling the pendent around my finger. “You are considering,_ ** **ja _?” Lukas asked. I turned around to see him smiling brightly towards me._**

**_“Possibly.” I answered, letting the pendant drop against my bare chest. “Are you sure I won’t be attacked?” Lukas shook his head and tapped his nose._ **

**_“Nope! Nope!” he chirped. “I have never worn a pendant, and I have not been hurt. Most Spirits are friendly once you get to talk to them. All they want is someone to talk to.” He patted my shoulder, nodding. “Your Mummy would like it most if you speak with her soon. She is not a patient woman.”_ **

**_“What does she look like?” I asked, sliding off the bed. Lukas turned and looked up, squinting as if someone was actually standing beside the two of us._ **

**_“You look a lot like her,” he answered. “Except for the eyebrows.” I scowled, patting my forehead._ **

**_“What’s wrong with my eyebrows?” I whined._ **

**_“It is something you got from your father, she says. She always hated them; you and your brothers have those ugly eyebrows.” Lukas smirked. “She is a child of magic, just like us. She does not want you to be afraid of her.”_ **

**_“But she’s from the…” I began._ **

**_“Not all Spirits in the Void are scary, Arthur. She has been searching for you and your brothers all these years since her death.” Lukas paused, nodding. “She wants to know where your brothers might be?”_ **

**_“Lukas!” Aunt Jelena hollered. She and my Mamma stepped into the room, holding towels. “Lukas, come along; your bath is ready.” Lukas patted me on the shoulder one last time before running towards his mother. As the two of them exited the room, Mamma smiled at me tenderly, slowly stepping forward with a towel draped across her arms._ **

**_“Arthur, I overheard Lukas speaking with his mother this afternoon about your mother.” she began, sitting on the bed. “Would you like to meet her?” I fidgeted, sighing. “Five minutes; that’s how long the pendant will stay off. Five minutes. And I will be right here beside you, the whole time; I won’t let anything happen to you.” she continued, taking off her carefully made Wiccan star earrings; the ones that protected her from the Spirits as well. I stared at her, hesitantly, and looked down at my pendant. Mamma brushed my hair back with her hand and sighed. “I know you remember the day you were possessed as if it were yesterday, but sweetheart, you have to face your fears.”_ **

**_"What if some other Spirit possesses me while I’m speaking with her?” I asked. Mamma shook her head._ **

**_“I won’t allow that to happen, Arthur.” she replied. She leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “I am your mother and I will protect you at all costs.” She flinched after she spoke, and sighed. She reached around my neck, unhooking the golden chain around my neck. “Once the pendant is off, the Voices will flood your ears. Be patient for a few minutes, and They will fade away; your mother’s voice will pierce through loud and clear.”_ **

**_“If you say so,” I muttered, watching her carefully place the pendant next to her. I winced, millions of Voices filling my mind; Voices screaming in agony and in pain. I covered my ears, stumbling backwards into the drawer behind me. I felt my Mamma’s hands gently touch my shoulders and pull me close. “It hurts too much; give back the pendant.” I whimpered._ **

**_“Shh, just relax, Arthur. The Voices will settle down soon.” Mamma said, soothingly. “Your mother is calling for you; listen closely for it.” I closed my eyes, just like she said, still wincing in pain and tried to focus. None of the Voices seemed familiar, then again, I could hardly remember my mother’s voice. I had been so young when she passed, after all. The only vague memory I had left of her was the lullaby she sang to me and my brothers. Her sweet, milky voice soothing me to sleep in her arms, her fingers brushing my back hair slightly._ **

**_The other Voices soon faded away as one Voice pierced through. I opened my eyes, startled by the silence, seeing a young woman standing before me. Tears formed in her eyes as she reached for me, smiling._ **

**_“Arthur,” she said, softly. “My sweet baby boy, you can see me now, can’t you?!” She wrapped her arms around me and kissed my forehead. “I’ve missed you and your brothers so much! Where are they?”_ **

**_“I-I…” I stammered. Mamma gently pulled me away from my mother’s spirit, laughing nervously._ **

**_“Mrs. Kirkland, there had been an incident at the orphanage,” Mamma clarified. “Arthur would not have lasted much longer with his brothers; actions needed---“_ **

**_“So you took my baby away from the only family he has left?!” my mother hissed. “You, a daughter of magic like me, should know that a child should not be separated from his own blood!”_ **

**_“That’s not necessarily true, Mrs. Kirkland. The conditions in that orphanage were not the best and Arthur had been possessed; considering his brothers had been stripped of their magic at birth, from what I could tell, I thought it was best to have him raised in a house filled with magic.” Mamma explained, calmly. “Mrs. Kirkland—“_ **

**_“Morgane,” my mother interrupted. “My name is Morgane.” Mamma nodded._ **

**_“Morgane, then, your three other sons I’m sure are safe. Alistair is probably of age now to be a legal adult and is probably taking care of Laughlin and Dylan now.” she continued. She paused and bit her lip. “Is it true, that they were born with magic, like Arthur, but someone had taken their craft away?” My mother scowled at her and clenched her fists, shaking._ **

**_“I want to speak with my baby boy, and no one else.” she said, through gritted teeth. Mamma nodded, flipping her white blonde hair back._ **

**_“Of course, Morgane.” Mamma replied, stepping back. My mother smiled once again and pulled me towards her._ **

**_“Oh, how you’ve grown, Arthur!” she cheered. She cradled my jaw with her palms, stroking the pad of her thumb against my cheek. “You were so tiny the last I saw you. How old are you now?”_ **

**_“Eight.” I answered. Her eyes widened in shock._ **

**_“Eight!” she repeated, shaking her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe it; so Alistair is nineteen, then. I’m getting so old!”_ **

**_“But you’re dead.” I muttered. “You can no longer age.” My mother laughed._ **

**_“Ah, yes, I suppose you’re right, Arthur.” she chuckled, rubbing her eyes. “I’ve become so forgetful these days; it drives me mad!”_ **

**_“That’s a common trait of someone who has lived in the Void for too long,” I chirped, grinning. I glanced over my shoulder to look up at Mamma. “Mamma and I will recover your memory in no time!”_ **

**_“Arthur,” Mamma interjected._ **

**_“Don’t call her Mamma!” my mother shouted. “I am your mother, your_ ** **only _mother!”_**

**_“I didn’t call her Mummy…” I defended. “Perhaps we can free you from the Vo—“_ **

**_“Arthur, that’s enough.” Mamma said, sternly. She dangled the pendant in my face and carefully wrapped it around my neck. My mother’s image vanished almost immediately. “Why don’t you go see if Lukas is finished with his bath; it should be your turn once Aunt Jelena refills the tub.”_ **

**_“But I haven’t finished talking to Mummy!” I argued, scowling at her. Mamma gave me a reassuring smile as she put her Wiccan Star earrings back on._ **

**_“You can speak with her tomorrow; we agreed on five minutes,_ ** **ja _?” she explained. “Your mother will still be here in the morning. I’m sure of it; she misses you very much.” She nudged me to the door. “I have a few things to think about; are you okay with Aunt Jelena helping you with your bath?” I shrugged._**

**_“Do I have much of a choice?” I asked, sarcastically. I pushed the door open slightly, stepping into the dark hallway. I heard Mamma sigh behind me; despite her frustrations, she always has such patience with me._ **

**_"I gave you my word, Arthur.” she repeated. “Your mother is at a very unstable point right now, and I do not want you to get hurt. There is still much more you do not know about the Void. It changes Spirits; imagine if you were in an endless pit, constantly in the realm between this world and the next, trying to reach the ones you held so dear.” Mamma paused. By now, Aunt Jelena and Lukas had pushed their way past me. “It can drive you mad, Arthur, just like hearing the Spirits’ cry.” I opened my mouth to argue, but Aunt Jelena had already pushed Mamma to the side, giving Lukas and I a harsh, but scared stare._ **

**_“K_ ** **_å_ ** **_ra,” Aunt Jelena whispered. “Now is not the time to discuss such things with him, not when a plan has not been developed.”_ **

**_“Jelena,” Mamma began._ **

**_“I felt her presence, K_ ** **_å_ ** **_ra, and she has one of the darkest souls I have seen in a long time.” Aunt Jelena glanced down at me, frowning. “Lukas, help Arthur with his bath.”_ **

**_“But I am not dry yet.” Lukas murmured. He was still wrapped in his towel, his hair dripping wet._ **

**_“Just help him.” Aunt Jelena turned her back to us and began arguing with Mamma in rapid, hushed Norwegian. Lukas sighed and grabbed my arm, leading me to the bathroom._ **

**_“They are afraid your Mummy has turned for the worst.” he said, softly. He closed the door behind him and shivered. “Do you know what we do with bad Spirits?” I narrowed my eyes, shaking my head. If a frown could be any sadder, Lukas could pull it off. He bowed his head a bit, as if in mourning for souls that have passed. I dipped my hand in the warm water, cupping my palm to let the water collect and pool as I lifted m hand up._ **

**_“What do we do?” I asked, splashing water at Lukas. He stared at me straight in the eye, not even flinching from the water that splashed against his face, wrapping his towel around his shoulders, and muttered:_ **

**_“We burn them.”_ **

* * *

 

Francis wouldn’t dare to stalk his next victim, not with Lukas so close on his trail. Which, naturally, disappointed the Frenchman greatly, considering it had been months since he had a thrilling hunt. But alas, Francis decided to take the long route home, walking through the dense mist clouds in the forest, slowly. Occasionally he’d turn around, checking his surroundings to make sure a certain Norwegian wasn’t lurking about. And he was the last thing Francis needed at the moment. What Francis needed, or rather, wanted, was Arthur; but of course, Arthur was back in his proper home, tricking Lukas. He sighed; if his plan failed, Francis would have to move again, and oh how he _hated_ moving.

As Francis slowly walked up the steps leading to his mansion, he noticed that there was a dim candle light coming from the main window. _Don’t tell me Lukas broke in._ Francis thought, frantically opening the door. His panic immediately morphed into anger as soon as he saw all of the furniture in the parlor rearranged, moved against the walls and a Pagan circle drawn in white chalk on the floor. Arthur sat in the center, his legs crossed as he seemed to be conversing to himself.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Francis shouted, stomping towards Arthur. “You’re going to ruin everything! If Lukas comes here and finds you here…”

“I left a note,” Arthur replied. “Well, not originally. I left in a hurry and had to go back. I’m currently ‘attempting’ to retrace my steps to the killer’s home.” Francis kicked him.

“You imbecile! You _are_ at the killer’s house!” Francis yelled. “Now, clean the mess you made and go home!” Arthur rose to his feet, dusting off his trousers and gave a slight smirk.

“I will, once we’re finished.” he muttered. “I found her.”

“Found who?! The Virgin Mary herself? Because I can’t think of anyone else who would be so damn important that you need to ruin everything we have planned!” Francis hissed, raising his hand. “I’m going to smack that smug grin off of your face if you don’t leave at once!”

“Jeanne.” Arthur said, simply. “I found Jeanne.” Francis froze, letting his arm drop to his side.

“ _What_?” he gasped. “What did you say?”

“I found Jeanne. Or rather, she found me.” Arthur clarified. Francis blinked in confusion and disbelief. “She’s here if you want to see her; she’s been searching for you.”

“There’s no one here, Arthur.” Francis mumbled. “Go hom—“ He paused as Arthur gently touched Francis’ temples, quietly murmuring under his breath. When he stepped back, Francis saw a young girl standing still, her eyes filled with sadness and her dress stained with blood. “W-what is this? Some kind of joke?” Francis stammered, glancing at Arthur.

“ _Non.”_ Jeanne answered, smiling gently. “ _C’est moi._ ” Francis swallowed and fell to his knees, looking up at Jeanne. She nodded, closing her eyes. “It’s been a while, Francis. I’ve missed you.”

“How could you miss me when I did such a horrible thing to you?” Francis asked, in French. Jeanne’s eye twitched subtly, but Francis did not notice.

“You were my only friend, my only family.” she said, delicately. “And you missed me as well?”

“Of course,” Francis replied. “My life fell to pieces after…after what happened. I was so alone…”

“Sh, shh.” Jeanne hushed, slowly reaching towards him. “It’s all behind us now…we’re reunited again…” Before she could lay her hands onto him, Arthur quickly grabbed Francis’ shirt collar and dragged him out of the circle. “ _Non!!_ ” Jeanne screamed, chasing them but stopped. The edges of the circle lit up, producing a barrier, keeping her trapped inside. “ _Non, non, non!!_ ” she repeated, her voice rising in intervals. As Francis stared back at her in horror, she pounded her fist against the light barrier, glaring back at them, screaming, her eyes black as the night.

* * *

Lukas opened the door to his cousin’s cottage, finding a note lying still at his place on the dinner table. With one kick, he slammed the door shut, dropped his breifcase and shrugged off his coat. He unfolded the note, carefully reading Arthur’s loopy, delicate cursive written on the page.

 

_Lukas,_

_I have decided that it could be helpful to our investigation if I try to retrace my steps to the killer’s place. I have headed east, the direction from where I came. If I am not back by daybreak, please be concerned and begin looking for me there._

_Arthur_

Lukas chuckled to himself; Arthur always struggled with lying. He couldn’t even pull it off in a simple letter of false reassurance.

Lukas tossed the note back onto the table and made his way upstairs; his head was pounding and it was time for him to take his daily potion. It was also time for him to speak with Jeanne; she was a great help to pointing out that Francis was the culprit for numerous murders. Soon, he would introduce Jeanne to Francis, a lovely reunion, and Francis wouldn’t be able to hold himself together. Lukas saw the look on Francis’ face the other day when h mentioned Jeanne; the poor man still had some guilt left in him after all. He stepped into the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet; a purple vile sat by itself in the centre, mocking him. Lukas pulled the cork off and gulped down the liquid with one slurp, making a mental note that it was time for him to boil more of the potion. He did not want his mild headaches turning into fierce, hungry migraines.

“Jeanne, I’m back.” Lukas called, plodding down the stairs. He unbuttoned the sleeve cuffs, placing the golden charms in his pockets. “Jeanne?” he called again, opening his briefcase. He pulled out a huge piece of raw steak and gently put it on a clean plate. “I brought you some dinner, I know how hungry you always are. I have more meat if this isn’t enough for you.” The house was silent and still, and it disturbed Lukas very much; Jeanne always called back to him, she was always quick like a cat. “Jeanne, are you there?” No response. “Jeanne? Jeanne?!” The only response he received was the creaking wooden floorboards. Lukas was always a calm man, but he soon felt panic rising within him. A Spirit did not wander, and if it did, it did not go far. A Spirit was dependent, and when their nurturer is gone, they typically stay put. Lukas quickly snatched his coat off of the hanger and ran out of the door.

If Jeanne left the cottage, it had to be Arthur’s doing.

* * *

 

**_“Are you afraid she has turned?” I overheard Aunt Jelena mutter as the last customer closed the door. Lukas and I were told to tend the potions all day, so we did. I read from the spell book, watching Lukas stir and add ingredients to the pot. Mamma closed the cashier and shrugged. I peered around the door frame, watching the two of them walk back and forth in the store._ **

**_"Her scent is foul, that I know. From what I can tell, she’s lost a good portion of her memory.” Mamma answered. She reached up and pulled a large jar filled with pink liquid down from a shelf. “It’s still too early to tell, but I have to protect Arthur as well as keep him happy.” Aunt Jelena crossed her arms._ **

**_“K_ ** **_åra, to risk having Arthur possessed is one thing, but to have an evil Spirit, a_ ** **ghoul _roaming around in our home..” she began._**

**_“I know!” Mamma hissed. “It’s virtually suicide. But, Arthur has the right to meet Morgane and to have closure.”_ **

**_“But Morgane’s interests are not the same! She will just consume Arthur’s flesh!” Aunt Jelena shouted, pulling on Mamma’s shoulder. “If you do not think this through, Kåra, you’re going to lose another son!”_ **

**_“Don’t you think I realise that?!” Mamma spat back. She pulled herself away from her sister. “Arthur still deserves the right---“_ **

**_“Kåra Haakonsson!” Aunt Jelena yelled, slamming her fist on the counter. “Remember the Spirit you befriended who in turn was actually hunting you down because you were pregnant? Do you not remember her ripping your unborn child out of your womb, eating—“_ **

**_“Enough!” Mamma cried. Tears began racing down her cheeks, gathering at the curve of her chin and falling gracefully to the floor. “Enough.”_ **

**_“Remember why you adopted Arthur” Aunt Jelena continued. “Not only to raise him in a home where he can develop his craft in magic, but because you can no longer bear children. If we have a ghoul following Arthur, it must be disposed of at once! You, of all people, should understand that!”_ **

**_“Morgane isn’t like typical ghouls; she was a sorceress, a daughter of magic, just like us! She most likely still holds her craft in the Void.” Mamma argued. “Regular rituals that involve destroying or cleansing ghouls will not work on her. She’ll free herself from the circle and—“ Aunt Jelena only shook her head and stormed off. Lukas and I scurried back over to the boiling, potion filled pots, pretending as if we had been working the entire time. She stepped inside the room, letting her hand gently hang by the door frame._ **

**_“Lukas,” she called. “Let us go for a walk,_ ** **ja _?”_**

**_“Arthur and I have not finished the potions.” Lukas answered, glancing over his shoulder. I turned a page in the spell book, refusing to look up._ **

**_“Lukas,_ ** **vær så snill _?” Aunt Jelena repeated. “It will be a short walk; I need some fresh air.” Lukas relented, jumping off his stool. As he walked past me, he patted my shoulder, giving me a sad smile._**

**_“_ ** **Lykke til. _” he whispered. He pushed past his mother and Aunt Jelena remained still, watching me stand up and begin stirring the pot._**

**_“Arthur, com with us. A young boy should not be kept in a potion room all day; it can mess with his head.” she said, attempting to make light of the situation._ **

**_“No thanks; I hate walking in the rain.” I answered._ **

**_“It is just mist, currently. I can bring an umbrella.”_ **

**_“Still a bother.” I dipped a ladle in the hot potion, scooping enough to fill and vile. Aunt Jelena sighed._ **

**_"You are in danger.” She added._ **

**_“I trust Mamma to protect me,” I hissed. My aunt sighed again, nodding and turned away. I shoved a cork into the vile and placed it with the others. “She always has.”_ **


	10. Sacrifice

“What the hell did you do to her?!” Francis yelled. He gripped Arthur’s shirt collar and shook him. “What did you do to Jeanne?! Is this some kind of sick joke to you?!”

“It wasn’t me!” Arthur shouted back. He pushed Francis back with great force and took a moment to catch his breath. He adjusted his collar and glanced over at Jeanne, clearing his throat. “The longer a Spirit stays in the Void, the more memories and sanity is taken away. They can’t stand being so lonely, reliving their final memory over and over. So they become…” Arthur paused, flickering his eyes at Francis and lowered his head. “They become ghouls.” Francis crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes.

“A ghoul?” he repeated, softly and in disbelief. “You think I’m going to believe that my precious and beloved childhood friend has turned into a ghoul?!” He laughed. “I know you believe in magic but this…this is a new low for you, Arthur.”

“You’re a living myth and you seriously question me?!” Arthur hissed. He shook his head and turned his back to him. “I’ve seen this many times; she’s in one of the final phases of the transformation. Her memory is all but gone, she hardly remember her name and her eyes are so…empty.” He walked closer to the circle’s barrier, staring at Jeanne calmly. Jeanne, on the other hand, was on her knees, pounding her fist against the magical barrier, shrieking at the top of her lungs. Her eyes had grown so wide that her eyes lids were starting to tear and bleed, they had turned black just like the normal ghoul’s, and drool formed at the corners of her mouth. “All she craves is flesh…and revenge most likely.”

“ _Le mort….le mort_ _é_ _ternel pour nous tous!_ ” Jeanne shrieked.

“You knew she was this way when I asked you to find her, didn’t you?” Francis demanded. Arthur shrugged.

“I knew the possibility was high. Sometimes ghoul transformations are quick and sometimes they’re quite lethargic.” Arthur squatted down to get a closer look at Jeanne. “My guess is that she had strong memories and dedication to find you again.” He looked over his shoulder, smiling sadly. “She’s a fighter, which is rare considering how young she was when she passed.”

“ _Je veux manger!”_ Jeanne cried. “Give me food! Food! Food!”

“A fighter?! How is she a fighter when she’s like this?!” Francis asked. He rushed over to Arthur and flicked his ear. “Why did you bother letting me see her? This breaks my heart.”

“Because I believe you might be able to save her.” Arthur answered. “If you can make her remember who she was, it could free her from the Void and let her move on.”

“And how do you suppose I do that?” Francis asked, putting his hands on his hips. Arthur rose his feet, turning slightly to face Francis, chuckling slightly.

“That’s up for her to decide.”

* * *

 

**_Mamma sat on the high stool behind the shop’s counter, staring off in the distance with a hand lingering over her lower stomach. I had never seen her so upset, besides the time I tried to cook breakfast for her for her birthday. It nearly broke my heart to see the sadness glazed over her eyes._ **

**_“Mamma, are you alright?” I asked, softly touching her hand. She jumped slightly and turned to me, sighing in relief and smiling. She then ruffled my hair and cradled my jaw in her palms._ **

**_“I promised you five minutes to see your mother again, didn’t I?” she muttered. “You must have so many questions for her.” She reached for her earrings, but I pulled her arm back._ **

**_“You’ve never explained what a ghoul is.” I replied. “Is my mother a ghoul?”_ **

**_“That’s an explanation that can wait, no?” she sighed. “What’s important is having closure with your mother.”_ **

**_“Not if she plans to eat me!” I snapped._ **

**_“Arthur, she won’t.” Mamma reassured. “She just wants to see you again. After all, you were so young when she died.” She took off her left earring and placed it on the counter. “I’m sure you have questions about your father as well.”_ **

**_"You can’t ignore my question!” I repeated. Mamma sighed, flustered._ **

**_“Fine,” she grumbled. “A ghoul is a Spirit that has been corrupted by the Void. The Void only consumes and feeds on the memories of the Spirits, since They lack a physical body but possess an image.” She paused, opening a drawer and pulling out a piece of white chalk. “Some Spirits transform faster than others; it depends upon how mentally stable they were in their lives. Much isn’t known about the Void itself, despite the hundreds of years of our awareness, we believe it’s some sort of entity. An entity that tricks Spirits into believing that they can be whole again. Little by little, They lose Their memories, or memories become jumbled. Eventually, They lose Their sanity, and become a ghoul, craving flesh in hopes They’ll consume enough to be human once again.”_ **

**_"That’s…that’s dreadful.” I muttered, keeping my head low. Mamma cupped her hand on my cheek, wiping away a tear._ **

**_“It is a part of life, my dear Arthur.” she continued. “We, Children of Magic, sorcerers and sorceresses, are the coping mechanism. We can help ghouls, more often than not. They, unlike other creatures, can be helped._ **

**_"And you believe you can help my Mummy?” I asked. Mamma nodded._ **

**_“I do; I’ve saved several ghouls before. She won’t be the first nor the last.” she assured, with a bright smile. She brushed my hair back with a hand and kissed my forehead. “Come along, let us prepare the circle; flip the sign so others know we are closed. I will move the furniture to be sure we have enough room.” I nodded and quickly skipped over to the front door and turned the tiny open/close sign. Mamma knelt on the floor and carefully and precisely sketching out the Wiccan circle; after several minutes, she stood up and dusted off her hands. “Are you ready, Arthur?” she asked, smiling._ **

**_“The circle will keep her contained, yes?” I questioned, nervous. Mamma put a reassuring hand on my shoulder and as she reached to take off my pendent, she repeated:_ **

**_“You have nothing to fear; I refuse to let anyone harm you.”_ **

* * *

 

Francis paced back and forth as Arthur had disappeared off somewhere in the mansion. Jeanne had ceased her screaming at the moment, though she paced in the circle, mimicking Francis’ movements. She stared at him the entire time, with her eyes still wide as ever and clenched fists. “ _Je veux manger, je veux manger. Manger, manger, manger._ ” she chanted. “ _Je veux manger._ ”

“Jeanne,” Francis said, softly. He stopped and put a hand over his heart. “Don’t you remember me? It’s me, Francis.” Jeanne stopped as well, her lips curling up in a sneer.

“I know who you are,” she hissed. “Don’t treat me like a child, Francis.” She threw herself against the barrier, making Francis jump and scream. She laughed. “It doesn’t feel so great, does it, my dear Francis? Being the one who’s scared?” Arthur entered the room, carrying two wine bottles by the neck and stopped in his tracks. He looked to Francis, smiling.

“So, you’ve made progress?” he asked, tossing a bottle to Francis. Francis scowled.

“No; she keeps repeating the same thing over and over. And she’s mocking me! Purposefully scaring me!” he answered, catching the bottle and placing it on the table behind him. “What do you think you’re doing with my blood supply?!”

“It’s human blood, right?” Arthur asked. Francis pursed his lips together and crossed his arms, refusing to answer. “Considering the fancy labels on both bottles, I can only assume so.” he continued, pulling the cork out. “Let’s see if this will satisfy her hunger a bit.”

“I am not wasting one of my few bottles of human blood! They’re a delicacy! Do you know how hard it is to store human blood?!” Francis shouted. “I have been saving these bottles for a very special occasion!” Arthur raised an eyebrow. Francis slumped his shoulders in defeat and flicked his wrist, giving Arthur the okay to hand the open bottle to Jeanne. Arthur nodded and offered Jeanne the bottle, letting the end of the bottle sneak through the circle.

“ _Je veux manger Francis._ ” Jeanne hissed, refusing the bottle.

“And what about me?” Arthur asked. Jeanne remained silent, keeping silent. Arthur glanced over at Francis who stared back in fear. “Why?”

“He murdered me! He ate me! He deserves the same fate!” Jeanne shouted, pulling the skin around her cheeks.

“Fair enough,” Arthur agreed, shrugging.

“Excuse me!” Francis yelled. Arthur chuckled.

“But, sweetheart, do you know how sorry Francis is for what happened?” he added.

“A murderer is never sorry!” she snapped. “Never!” Arthur’s chuckle grew into a full blown laugh.

“Very true…” he muttered. Angry, Francis marched over to where Arthur stood and punched his shoulder. “Sorry, sorry! Perhaps the apology would be more heartfelt if it came from Francis himself.”

“The vermin has nothing to say, because he has no heart!” Jeanne grumbled, narrowing her swollen eyes at Francis. Arthur laughed once again, patting Francis’ shoulder and handed him the wine bottle.

“I cannot get through to her, Arthur.” Francis muttered. Arthur rolled his eyes.

“You’re hardly trying; your efforts are _path_ _é_ _tique_.” he mocked. Francis smacked Arthur’s arm.

“I could end your life right now if you want, you bastard.” he hissed.

“You won’t,” Arthur sighed. “Because if you do, you’ll only be proving the image Jeanne believes you are. And we certainly don’t want that. If I were you, I’d offer that bottle to her. Poor thing is starving, and she can’t think straight when she’s hungry. You and I should be able to relate to that.” He stepped back, waiting for Francis to move closer to the circle. The Frenchman hesitated, kneeling down to the floor and slid the bottle through the barrier. Jeanne tilted her head, intrigued, and picked up the bottle slowly. She put the bottle to her lips and quickly drank all of its contents, small trickles of blood dripping from her chin. The bottle slipped from her hands, cracking into tiny bits, and her whole body began to tremble. Francis stood up, turning to Arthur for help.      “Do you feel any better, dear?” Arthur asked, gently. Jeanne looked up, her eyes normal once again, and began to weep.

* * *

 

**_Mamma and I stood across the room, facing my mother who stood still in the circle. She was not happy with me, my Mummy. Morgane only stared at me, lifting her chin up high; I knew she didn’t like Mamma. Something was extremely off about her aura today; it was as if she woke up in a foul mood and Mamma stood in the way of her happiness. “Arthur, my sweet baby boy, tell me what’s going on?” she asked._ **

**_“We’re going to help you Mummy.” I answered. “We’re going to free you from the Void. Isn’t that great?” I flashed her an endearing smile. She did not return the same smile; instead, he eyes flickered to Mamma and her stern scowl turned ever fiercer._ **

**_“K_ ** **_å_ ** **_ra, is it?” she muttered through clenched teeth. “As a Daughter of Magic myself, I am surprised that you would draw the Sacred Circle without my request. Are you afraid of me?” Mamma swallowed and crossed her arms._ **

**_"Morgane, I have been involved long enough with Spirits, the Void and the supernatural to know when one is in need for help.” Mamma replied. She took a step forward and slowly approached my mother. “Please, do not take any personal offence, Morgane.” Morgane remained silent, her right eye twitching slightly. Mamma cleared her throat. “Your son would like to speak to you—“_ **

**_“I know when I am not wanted, and I know when a sorceress is afraid.” Morgane interrupted. “I’d like to speak to my son privately, K_ ** **_å_ ** **_ra.” Mamma bowed her head and cleared her throat._ **

**_“I’m afraid I cannot do that, Morgane. Arthur is still learning his craft as a sorcerer and it is best for an adviser to be present.” she answered. My mother rolled her eyes, turning away. “Mrs. Kirkland, which clan were you associated with? I was associated with the one in Oslo until I moved here, of course.”_ **

**_“London.” My mother answered, bitterly. “Naturally so.” She paused, looking over her shoulder and smirked. “It’s a shame about what happened to your unborn child. It’s always devastating for a woman to bear the burden of not being able to produce life from her womb.” Mamma took a step backwards, blinking quickly to stop her tears from falling._ **

**_“E-excuse me, h-how did you know that?” she questioned._ **

**_“I used to be able to read the future and the past, K_ ** **_å_ ** **_ra, when I was alive. It is written all over your face.” My mother replied. “I’m glad I was able to give birth to four beautiful, baby boys in my time.”_ **

**_“Yes, except three of them had been stripped from their magic. People only take when they are power hungry; did you steal your own children’s magic so you could—“ Mamma began._ **

**_“I’d like to speak to my son, not a childless woman.” Morgane spat. Mamma hesitated but relented and nodded, stepping aside._ **

**_“Certainly, Mrs. Kirkland.” she muttered. Mamma gently guided me over towards the circle and plucked a spell book off of the bookshelf on my right. I could feel her eyes on us as I sat down in front of the circle, watching like a mother bear watches her cub. Morgane grinned and sat down as close to the magical barrier as she could._ **

**_“My sweet baby boy, you’ve grown so much!” my mother cheered. She let a hand rest against the barrier, her smile faltering as she realised that she could not touch me. “How old are you now?” I swallowed._ **

**_“Mummy, I told you yesterday.” I whispered. My mother blinked, shaking her head in confusion._ **

**_“Y-yes, of course! I must’ve forgotten!” she laughed. “A-and your brothers? Where are they?” I pressed my lips together, saddened by yet another repeated question._ **

**_“I don’t know.” I replied. “The last I saw them was at the orphanage.” Her scowl returned and she balled her hand into a fist and punched the barrier, putting a few tiny cracks. “P-please don’t be angry, Mummy! I was so little and I would’ve died in the orphanage like all the other babies and children. Wouldn’t you have preferred me to live rather than to stay with my brothers?”_ **

**_“Children of Magic do not abandon each other; Alistair would have known that!” Morgane grumbled. “Laughlin too.” I turned to Mamma, staring at her wide eyed. She stared back with wide eyes as well, giving me a look of concern, telling me that it was time for me to step back. “Arthur, look at me. Where are your brothers, Arthur?”_ **

**_“Enough.” Mamma said, sternly. “Morgane, it’s time for you to be cleansed.” My mother gritted her teeth together, using her hands to support her as she crawled back. She blew a puff of air, flipping her bangs up away from her eyes. The longer she was contained in the circle, the more animal like, and the more beastly like she became._ **

**_“All sorcerers know that’s nice talk for ‘we’re going to kill you’.” she hissed. “My spirit still lingers, and I will remain with my son forever.”_ **

**_“No Spirit can live in the Void eternally without losing their mind.” Mamma said. Morgane cackled._ **

**_“Says who?” she demanded, tilting her head a bit. As much as I loved my Mummy, or rather,_ ** **wanted _to love her like a son should, I wanted her gone. I wanted to never see her again. I wanted my mother, my Mummy, Morgane,_ dead.**

**_“The High Priestess of each and every clan, and every book of magic we hold,” Mamma answered. She put her hands on her hips and held her head up high. “And the laws of magic, the laws of the universe.” My mother straightened herself to match Mamma’s height, with an evil smirk on her lips._ **

**_“If that’s what you want to believe, be my guest.” she mocked. “But I know much better; I’m stronger than any of you. I’m above the laws of the universe.” Mamma sighed._ **

**_"So that’s why three of your sons do not carry magic; you stripped their magic away from them as soon as they were born and absorbed it for yourself.” Mamma continued. “You were kicked out of your clan, weren’t you, Morgane? Because all the power you contained in your soul was infecting your head. You became a threat to the clan and more importantly, your children. You murdered your husband.”_ **

**_“I never liked him anyway.” Morgane snorted. “Such an ugly bastard.” I gulped; my mother had been a horrible woman in her time. She did not match the woman from my beloved memories, for she was now a stranger to me. I couldn’t help but wonder if she had always been this way, and my older brothers refused to speak about her around me, because they knew that I had tender, fragile memories of her. They knew my mother had been a vicious monster, they witnessed her murder our father, they knew the truth._ **

**_Morgane licked her lips and sighed with frustration. “Oh, how I am bored! Could we perhaps make things more interesting?” she asked. She cracked her neck and giggled, closing her eyes. She collapsed onto the floor on all fours, slowly looking up at me. “I’m extremely hungry,” When she opened her eyes, they were wide and black; a creepy smile grew across her face. “Which one of you would like to be today’s sacrifice?”_ **

**_Mamma stood in front of me and pushed me backwards. I peered around her to watch Morgane rise into a stance as if she were ready to pounce us like a cat. “Arthur,” Mamma whispered. “Whatever happens, you have to be the one to kill her. Whatever happens, do not hesitate.”_ **

**_“The barrier should keep her contained, right?” I asked, frightened. Mamma took a deep breath, grabbing my hand and squeezed it tight._ **

**_"It should, but it won’t.” she replied, honestly. “Arthur, know that you are my son, and I will always love you.” I nodded and pulled my hand away from her. Now was not the time to be weak, and I had to prove to my mother that I was stronger than her, that it truly was time for her to go to rest._ **

**_Morgane sprinted towards us, shattering the gleaming light barrier and before I could attempt to cast a spell, I was pushed down to the floor. All I could hear was the sound of flesh ripping and bones cracking followed by a high pitched ringing. I prepared myself for a gruesome sense of pain, but instead, I felt absolutely nothing. I rolled over and as my brain processed the situation before me, I realised that Morgane was breaking Mamma’s shoulder and tearing her skin with her teeth. Blood was splattered all over Morgane’s face and raced down Mamma’s arm. Mamma was shouting words, wincing in pain as Morgane bit harder and harder into her shoulder, and I soon realised the high pitched sound was from my own screaming. I reached out for her, crawling towards her and trying to push my mother off of her. I was so horrified that I couldn’t even notice that the front door had opened and Aunt Jelena was rushing into the scene._ **

* * *

 

“I cannot control her, the beast inside of me.” Jeanne wept, wiping her tears away. “I don’t mean to be this way, truly. She, the beast, consumes my mind whenever she pleases. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Have you killed anyone, Jeanne? For your own consumption?” Arthur questioned. He gestured to Francis to bring him the second bottle filled with blood. Jeanne gripped her hair, whimpered, and shook her head.

“ _Je ne souviens pas…je ne souviens pas!_ ” she cried. “She consumes at will and I cannot stop her!”

“It’s okay, it’s okay, dear.” Arthur hushed. “Just try to remember.” Jeanne shook her head once more, violently.

“ _Je ne veux pas souviens! Je ne veux pas souviens,_ Arthur!” she screamed. “Just…make it all stop. Please.” Francis kneeled beside Arthur and pulled him close.

“This is going nowhere; just save her already!” he hissed. “I can’t bear to see her like this any longer!”

“I’ve already told you, I can’t save her because something, i-e _you,_ keeps her from moving on!” Arthur hissed back. “Both of you have to be willing to save her.”

“And I’ve already told you that I don’t know how!” Francis shouted.

“Give her the wine bottle,” Arthur replied. “As a sign of peace between the two of you.” Francis glanced at the bottle he held in his hand and at Jeanne, who had begun rocking back and forth. “Go on, I don’t think she’ll bite you in this state. She’s even apologized, Francis.”

“Francis, Francis,” Jeanne chanted to herself. She held her head, leaning backwards and groaned. “Why does that name ring a bell?!” Francis cautiously slid the bottle across the barrier, eyeing her suspiciously. “Francis, Francis! Francis Bonnefoy, _oui_! My one and beloved friend!”

“He’s right here, beside me. Don’t you remember?” Arthur reminded her, in a gentle voice. Tears raced down her face as she shook her head and curled up into herself.

“ _Je ne pas souviens!”_ Jeanne shrieked. “ _Sauver moi, aider moi! Si’l te pl_ _âit!”_ Francis winced at her shrieking voice and rose to his feet.

“I can’t take anymore of this,” he grumbled, setting one foot into the circle. Arthur quickly grabbed his wrist, stopping the Frenchman to a halt.

“Before you get yourself in trouble, you must know that she might turn again and feast upon you. If that occurs, I will not be able to save you in time.” Arthur clarified. “Vampire abilities and all.”

“If she feasts upon me, let her, because I deserve it.” Francis replied. He yanked his wrist out of his lover’s grip and gave him a sad smile. “I just want Jeanne to rest peacefully.” He turned away, stepping fully into the Wiccan circle and took a seat beside Jeanne. Her trembling stopped as she slowly sat up, glaring at him with hunger.

“Please, run,” she pleaded. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Francis chuckled.

“I used to wait for you after school by the fountain. You always came rushing out of the church’s doors and run to me. You’d tell me how angry you always were at the Sisters who forbid you from being a typical kid.” He said. He leaned all the way back until he was lying flat on the floor. “You always knew best, Jeanne.”

“Stop it, please.” Jeanne pleaded. She began shaking again, this time, she held her stomach. “I’m so hungry.”

“Do you remember when you were so upset that a kitten had gotten itself stuck in a tree? You demanded that I climb up the tree immediately and save it.” Francis continued. Jeanne laughed lightly and nodded.

“ _Oui_ , I did do that.” she added. “That was also the day we met; my kitten ran off and I couldn’t help her. You were so kind to help out a brat like me.” Francis chuckled.

“Do you remember what I said, though?” he asked. Jeanne bit her bottom lip and closed her eyes, thinking.

“You said: ‘No one should be sad on such a beautiful day, especially a pretty girl.’ That is what you said.” she answered. Francis smiled.

“And that is true,” he whispered. “Everyday is beautiful and a pretty girl like yourself should not be sad.” He rolled over onto his side to face her. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, Jeanne. I only want you to have peace of mind. If I’m the one who ties you to this world, please, kill me.” Jeanne frowned and shook her head.

“No, no, I could do no such thing. Not to a dear friend.” she replied.

“You will forgive me after what I did to you?”

“I-I know it wasn’t you who killed me, but the dormant beast that resides inside.” she said. She patted her chest and nodded. “Sometimes we cannot control the monster inside; I know that now. A monster lives in you, Francis, but that does not mean you _are_ the monster.” Francis looked to Arthur and both stared at each other, astonished by Jeanne’s words. Francis smiled.

“You still see the good in all things, don’t you?” he asked. “And for that, you deserve peace.” Jeanne lowered her head.

“I wanted to see you again, so the Void trapped me between this world and the next. It soon began to consume me; it too has a beast residing inside itself.” she added. She turned to Francis, flashing the brightest smile. “Thank you, Francis. For all that you have done for me.” Arthur stepped inside the circle, pulling a small book from his pocket.

“Jeanne, are you ready?” he asked. He gave a sad smile, squatting down. Jeanne flinched.

“Where will I go?” she questioned. “I cannot lose Francis, not a second time!” Arthur sighed.

“It is not my decision, unfortunately.” he muttered. “I can only free you. That is, if you’d like to be freed.” Jeanne stared at Arthur with teary eyes, flinching and twitching. Her hunger was growing more and more; there wasn’t much time left until she turned again. “Shall we begin?” Jeanne hesitantly nodded and grabbed Francis’ hand, squeezing it tight. “As long as you’re ready.” Arthur added. He soon began reading from his spell book, chanting in Old English as lights illuminated the lines of the circle. Jeanne looked up at Francis, tears racing down her face.

“Promise me you won’t forget me?” she asked. Francis smiled.

“I will never forget my best friend. That is a crime I could never commit, my dear.” he replied, kissing her forehead. “I’m glad I could help you recover your memories.” Jeanne smiled back.

“I’m glad that I can finally remember my life.” she responded. She stood up, pulling Francis’ up with her. “Arthur, thank you. I apologise for what I did to you when you were a child all those years ago. A woman I met told me that you would be able to help me. Though it took several years, her words were true.” Arthur narrowed his eyes as she turned her back to him. “Where do I begin, Francis? I thank you for being there not only when I was alive, but for being here for me now. You are who I’m thankful for most.” She leaned forward and kissed Francis’ forehead as he did moments prior. Her image was gone when he looked up, but her voice lingered as she whispered: “I forgive you, my dear Francis.”

The room grew silent, leaving both Arthur and Francis standing in the middle of the Wiccan circle. Arthur closed his book, placing it back in his pocket and turned for the door. “Arthur,” Francis muttered. Arthur stopped in his tracks and Francis spun him around, wrapping his arms around him. “Thank you.” He kissed him tenderly, cradling his cheeks with his palms. “Thank you so much, my love.” Arthur smiled and returned a kiss and the embrace.

“I aim to please, Francis.” He whispered. The two stood in place, letting the moments pass them by as they held each other, occasionally kissing each other’s lips. As they savored the moment, little did they know that they were being watched by a peculiar Norwegian, who stood off in the forest and had seen every moment they had shared within the hour.

* * *

 

**_In a traumatic experience, there is no way of telling how quickly time passes. It felt like hours had passes as I witnessed my biological mother in Spirit consume my adoptive mother. And there I sat, an eight year old child, unable to do anything because I was paralyzed by fear._ **

**_Suddenly, Morgane was pulled, or commanded away from Mamma and I saw Lukas running towards me. “Arthur,” he called, gently. “Arthur, it is okay, it is okay!” He gently put his hands on my shoulders and helped me to my feet. “My Mamma has everything under control. Your Mummy is contained in the circle; she cannot get out this time.” Lukas assured._ **

**_“A-and Mamma? What about_ ** **my _Mamma?!” I asked, hysterical. “What about my Mamma?”_**

**_“She is fine! Once Morgane was contained, we tended to her wounds right away.” Lukas replied. “She is upstairs. But your Mummy, she---“_ **

**_“She is not my mother!” I screamed, pushing him. “She is not my mother! She’s a cruel, evil woman! I do not know who she is! She is not my mother!”_ **

**_“Alright, alright! But you still have to tell my Mamma what you want. Do you want to say goodbye?” Lukas corrected. I shook my head violently._ **

**_“Arthur,” Aunt Jelena said, softly. “If one of us is to free her, it should be you.” I felt myself shaking uncontrollably as Lukas guided me to the circle. Morgane sat in the centre, like she should have been the entire time, looking down at the floor. Aunt Jelena reach for my hand and squeezed. “Are you ready?”_ **

**_“I want her to burn. I want her to pay for everything she’s done, the misery she’s cause my brothers and me.” I hissed. “I want her to_ ** **burn _.” Aunt Jelena did not reply, but only gave a soft, sad smile._**

**_“We sorcerers do not get to decide the Spirits’ fate,” she recited, staring at Morgane. “But, considering the crimes Morgane has committed, I am sure the god and goddess will not favour her.” She waved her arm and the light barrier turned a darker colour, the outlines of the star inside crumbling. Morgane did not flinch, she only stared at me, with a satisfied smirk._ **

**_“Why do you mock your son, Morgane?” Aunt Jelena asked._ **

**_“Because,” she croaked, her voice scratchy. “Of the four I gave birth, he is the one most like me.” She giggled. “He will grow into a man who wishes to be good, but evil will consume him.”_ **

**_“I have read Arthur’s future several times; there is not darkness in his future.” Aunt Jelena corrected. “You are mistaken, Morgane.”_ **

**_“He may be good of heart, but, he will become something far worse than a ghoul.” Morgane muttered. The floor shifted, sinking a bit. Morgane inhaled and smiled. “I was disappointed in my first borns; they took after their father. But Arthur, he was special. He would become powerful and make me proud. That’s why I let him keep his magic.”_ **

**_"Shut up!” I shouted. “Shut up!”_ **

**_"Oh Arthur, my sweet baby boy,” she continued. “You will meet a man in the future, and he will claim you as his. The two of you will make a pact to serve each other and to protect one another. It is what we all do, despite how our kind devils in the black arts.” Morgane stood up as the star broke and a bright red light filled the room. “Remember my words, Arthur,” she said, amused. She cackled as she fell with the circle, falling into a dark portal that swallowed her whole. “Love always comes with blood, Arthur; love always comes with sacrifice.”_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that I have fully caught up to myself with this fic, updates will occur at a much different pace now. I am still working on the chapter 11, but hopefully I will be able to update this story come spring break. If you've noticed any errors in any of the translations (in this chapter or previous ones, in French or Norwegian), please tell me so I can correct myself!! I hope you've enjoyed these 10 chapters so far!! If you want to leave a comment, it would be very appreciated! Kudos would be appreciated as well! Regardless, I will do my best to update soon! 
> 
> -Katelyn


	11. Crave

_Maman was a fearless woman. She never thought twice about a conflict ahead of her; she trusted her gut, her intuition. She never feared my father, who in turn, could’ve easily killed her whenever he pleased. Maman knew that well, but never once did the thought seem to faze her. She loved Jacques with her whole heart, and Jacques merely protected her from her imminent doom._

_Maman lived in the manor with my father and me after her surprise appearance. She was not allowed to leave the manor’s doors, like me; she was to wait until Jeanne’s murder case blew over. Every day, Maman kept herself busy; she baked a lot, despite the fact that I nor my father could enjoy her baked pastries without getting sick. “They’re for your cravings,” she said to me one day. “You’ve always had a sweet tooth, Francis; I know you missed my baking.” And she was right; I missed human food very much._

_"Geneviève, how many times must I tell you that Francis and I_ cannot _eat human food.” My father said. “Or at least, we can only stomach a few bites.” Maman brushed her hair behind her ear with her hand and chuckled._

_“Then what am I to do with myself, all day, Jacques?” she replied. I’m a baker and it is impossible for me to_ not _bake.” My father smiled slightly._

_"Perhaps you could help out in the bakery down in the village? They are always looking for new employees in all of the shops.” he joked. “I’m sure they will appreciate your talents, dear.”_

_“I will consider it,” Maman sighed, knowing that my father had no intention of letting her leave the house. “But I think I enjoy pestering you more.” Maman loved teasing and flirting with my father; at first I thought it was genuinely sweet, for they hadn’t seen each other close to fourteen, fifteen years. But now, I had grown sick of her attempts. Besides the one time I heard the two of them moaning in my father’s bedroom, I didn’t believe Jacques returned feelings for my Maman. I wanted to tell her, but what right did I have?_

_"I’m sure Francis enjoys the pastries I bake.” Maman added._

_“They smell delicious, Maman.” I replied, not looking up from my book. She laughed and leaned closer to me, squinting at the cover._

_“What are you reading, sweetie; I can’t read the title.”_

_"Shakespeare.” I answered. “Papa wants me to learn English.” Maman raised an eyebrow and let out a huge scoff._

_“What for?! Everyone who is important enough speaks French!” she boasted. Jacques cleared his throat._

_“I want him to move to England when he is old enough,” he explained. “There he will have his own manor and village to run.”_

_"England?! You want our son to move to that wretched place?! Are you out of your mind, Jacques?!!” Maman shouted. “There is no need for him to live in such an abysmal land! He can stay here in France, where he_ belongs _.”_

_“Geneviève,” my father began._

_“Francis, sweetie, why don’t you put the book down and come with me for a walk? It’s a gorgeous day, the sun is shining and the birds are singing….”_

_“Papa says I’m not allowed to leave the manor,” I answered. “And the sun will burn my skin to a crisp.” Maman’s lip twitched as she slowly nodded. As supportive as she was, she still had a hard time understanding the concept of what being a vampire meant and entailed._

_“Then let’s play a game; do we have a set of cards around?” she continued, rising to her feet._

_“Francis is to finish his studies, then it will be supper time. Then more studies and—“ Jacques interrupted._

_“Will you let him be a child, for Christ’s sake?! He’s still fourteen, do you understand? He can be a child!” Maman defended. “I would love to see the village down the hill after all; perhaps you can show us around Jac—“_

_“_ Non, _Only_ I _enter the village for political purposes; I am the one who governs them.” he shouted. “They mustn’t know about either of you, or the will revolt against me.”_

_“So we’re to stay cooped up in here like rodents?” Maman hissed._

_"Geneviève, you are a wanted criminal; it’s best if you stay out of sight.” Jacques added. “In a year, everything will blow over and you will move back to your village, and Francis will learn about politics and—“_

_"Move back?!” Maman cried. “Jacques, I want to get married! Don’t you see that this is our opportunity?”_

_"I’m not the type to be married, Geneviève.” Jacques murmured. “Isn’t it much more fun to be lovers anyway?” I watched Maman’s eyes widen with rage as she crossed her arms and stormed off._

_"You are Hell’s truest bastard!!” she yelled, her voice echoing in the hallway. My father leaned back in his chair, running his palms over his face and letting out a sigh._

_“Women…” he grumbled. “They’re not worth it, and yet I fall for them every time.” I froze; it wasn’t until this moment that I realised that my father had to be older than he let on. I never thought of how old my father was, but he looked to be in his late thirties, early forties at his worst. His statement alone indicated that he had been with several women; when he met my Maman, his feelings were never true. But where did that leave me? If my father was hundreds of years old, was I still somehow his only son._

_“Papa,” I muttered, closing my book. “Is Maman the only woman you’ve been with?” I asked. Jacques gave me a look of pity, smirking as he chuckled at my idiotic question._

_“Francis, humans have pitifully short lives, while vampires can live for eternity.” he explained. “Every now and then, I get bored and find another woman to entertain myself with.” He paused. “I’ve lost count with how many women I’ve slept with, but your mother is probably my least favourite. Though, I am thankful for her; she was the only woman strong enough to bear me a son. All the others died before or during child birth, along with the child.” I scowled, placing the book on the table beside me._

_“That’s why you left Maman; you left because you believe she was going to die.” I grumbled. “And I’m your only son.” My father shrugged._

_“The only living one, at least.” he answered. “You’re still too young to understand the ways of vampires. You will soon, though. Women will naturally fall to your feet, pleading to be filled with—“_

_“You really_ are _Hell’s truest bastard.” I hissed. My father stared at me in shock as I stood up and rushed out of the library to find my mother._

_The front door had been left open and as I peered around the door, I saw Maman sitting on the doorstep, picking off flower petals. “Maman,” I called softly. She turned her head slightly and glanced at me, ripping off another petal off the flower. “I’ll go on a walk with you. I think I could use to some fresh air.” She did not reply, only letting the last petal in her hand blow away. “Maman?”_

_“Francis, sit down.” she sighed, dropping the stem on the ground. She looked over her shoulder as I sat down beside her, flashing a soft, sad smile. “I’m not quite sure what I expected by coming here. I thought your father would’ve changed his mind by now; it’s not too late for him…”_

_"You don’t want to be a vampire, Maman, believe me,” I blurted. “It’s a painful burden to be. Besides, Papa is…not the best man.” My Maman deserved someone better; she deserved the world. Maman nodded and sighed._

_“I know that now; he’s a monster incapable of emotions.” she mumbled. “Maybe going to the guillotine won’t be so bad after all.”_

_"Don’t be irrational about this, Maman! You still can go—“ I stopped myself once I heard my father’s footsteps coming closer._

_“Francis, come inside; the sun will burn your skin too much.” he demanded._

_“The sun feels nice, actually. I feel no pain.” I lied. There was a tingle beginning at my forehead, but mainly a dull throbbing by my temples. The sun’s light was too bright, but its rays did not burn my skin, like my father had claimed._

_My father covered his eyes with his hand and stepped out of the light. His face was already burned from a minute in the sun. “Francis, do as you’re told.” he ordered. “Geneviève, come inside as well. I can’t risk having anyone seeing you.” Maman rolled her eyes._

_"You just don’t want negative attention drawn to yourself.” she muttered. “If I’m seen, I’m seen. I have nothing to hide, for I am innocent. Unlike you, who has committed numerous murders.”_

_“Geneviève, just because I do not want to marry you, doesn’t mean I don’t love you. You’re a beautiful woman, but I can’t make you happy. But don’t turn yourself in because you’re angry with me.” he lied._

_“Clearly.” Maman snorted. “I’m glad I was able to give you the son you wanted, Jacques. Too bad he isn’t anything like you.” She stood up and smiled at me. “I’m going for a walk; Francis, you’re welcome to joi—“ She froze as we saw a huge group of people marching down the hill; a group filled with outraged people._

* * *

 

Lukas couldn’t sleep for the night once he was back at the cottage. Just the mere thought of his beloved cousin turning into a vampire disturbed him, but him being a lover to a vampire sickened him. _The pact has been made._ He thought to himself. _And I’ve got to be the one to break it._ Vampires worked strangely; they were solitary creatures, but they would make pacts with others for assurance. Depending upon the strength of the vampire, vampires could make pacts of master and slave, friendship, parent and child, and, rarely, love. Lukas had no idea what pact Arthur and that _parasite_ agreed to.

The worst of it all was that Arthur didn’t even think twice about what he had become. Vampires were the ultimate worst beast in existence; _much_ worse than ghouls, and he _dared_ to act as if no venom ran through his veins. Lukas was nearly offended that his cousin hadn’t come forth about his new self. Lukas couldn’t help but wonder, surely, Arthur didn’t become a vampire willingly? Francis _must have_ seduced him somehow; vampires, though they did not consciously know it, possessed a minor amount of magic. All supernatural creatures did, but only the simple powers of charm and seduction. The Norwegian didn’t care how “good” Francis Bonnefoy was to the village’s people, nothing good ever came from a vampire, let alone a Frenchman.

Giving up on sleep, Lukas swung his legs over to the side of the bed, shuddering as his toes touch the cold floor. He stood up and stretched; his thin pajama shirt rising slightly as he lifted his arms over his head. Lukas didn’t mind the mornings, though he did not get enough sleep. He was ready to go out into the village and find a way to expose Francis Bonnefoy for what he really was. The sleepy Norwegian slowly shuffled to the washroom and found Arthur’s pendent on the floor. _He must’ve forgotten it when he saw Jeanne._ Lukas thought. Now, as the situation worsened before him, Lukas had to think of a way to “cure” Arthur in the meantime. He surely didn’t want to kill his beloved cousin for a mistake. _The Oslo Clan would be more helpful to him than the London Clan; though, I should consult his own kind first._

Lukas bent down to pick up the golden pendent and winced violently, nearly crashing his head onto the porcelain sink behind him. A loud piercing noise and light had hit him, causing his head to throb. _Pendants and talismans are bound by protective spells to keep the crying Spirits out._ Lukas recalled. Lukas was proud that he was one of the very few sorcerers who did not need a talisman or pendant to keep the Spirits away from bothering him. _But, why the hell did it shock me?_ Not wanting to risk feeling worse, he shook his head and steadied himself, and went about his business to prepare for the day.

* * *

 

Francis awoke with a terrible craving. One of his cravings had been satisfied last night (vampires were _naturally_ good a sucking), but this morning he had a different one. It had been nearly a month and a half since he had tasted human blood, and his body was hating him for it. Luckily enough, he already knew who his next target was.

The Frenchman turned on his back, seeing Arthur sleeping soundly, naked, beside him. _What strange vampires we are,_ Francis thought to himself. _My father would be disappointed, as always._ He put his arm around Arthur and flicked his ear. The Englishman groaned and shifted, his green eyes fluttering open. “Wake up,” Francis muttered. “You’ve got to get back home before Lukas finds up. That is, if he believed your so called note.”

“Five more minutes.” Arthur groaned. He snuggled closer to Francis’ bare chest, slinking his arms around him. “Five minutes…” Francis smiled, but pushed him away.

“As much as I would love to stay in bed with you all day, _mon ange_ , we’ve got a plan to abide to.” Francis reminded. Arthur sat up, running a hand through his shaggy hair.

“Don’t you think calling me an angel is a bit….wrong?” he asked. Francis shrugged.

“How about _lapin_?” Francis offered.

“Pick something less innocent.” Arthur sighed. Francis laughed and rested his chin on his lover’s shoulder, nibbling it a bit.

“Angels aren’t always innocent, remember?” Francis mused. “ _Ange_ is perfect for you, Arthur.”

“Quite,” The other mumbled. “Whatever you say, love.” Arthur stood up and made his way around the room, picking up clothing that had been tossed across the room from the night before. Francis raised his arms and let out a yawn.

“I think I will complete my hunt today.” he commented, casually. “I would’ve done it last night but Lukas decided to spook me. He’s become a real pest.”

“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid, Francis. You’ve been a bit irrational lately.” Arthur sighed. Francis stood up and opened the drawer, chuckling.

“You’re the young vampire here, stop being so mature.” he teased. He pulled out a pair of pants, slipping his legs in. “When sudden events occur, I can be extremely panicked. Luckily enough, I have you to keep me straight.” Arthur grunted, buttoning his shirt.

“Just be careful, and don’t underestimate Lukas too much.” he said. “I’ll try my best to keep him off guard, but he can be slick sometimes.”

“Keep him on the east side of the village, will you?” Francis, asked. “My prey resides in the west, so it’d be great if the both of you were on the opposite end.” Arthur simply nodded, brushing back his hair with his fingers.

“Alright, you have my word. I’ll think we’ll interview Mrs. Owens today, per my request.” he replied. He walked over to Francis and kissed his cheek. “Be safe; I can’t always save your arse, you know.” He stepped out of the room, tying on his tie. Francis loved that Arthur tried his best to be stoic, but he was actually the worry wart. He finished getting dressed, grabbed a cloak and stepped outside of the mansion, heading towards the direction of his office.

* * *

 

_As we watched the angry mob march towards us, I sensed panic rise in my Maman. We could hear their chanting echoing in the woods; ‘Murderer, murderer of the innocent!’ Maman backed into me, grabbing my hand. “Francis,” she whispered. “I want you to run.”_

_"Maman, no!” I snapped. “We’ll protect you, won’t we?” I turned to my father, who was slowly stepping back into the mansion and closing the door. Maman cradled my face in her palms and gave me a stern glare._

_“Jacques, tell him it is not safe for him to stay here!” she pleaded. “Both of you, run!”_

_“But_ you’re _innocent! I will take the fall! Maman, please.” I begged. “You don’t need to protect me anymore.” Before I could continue, my father pulled me behind him and scowled. “_ Know your place, son.” _I scowled back at him as pushed past me and walked down the cobblestone steps. The mob approached him, two law officials leading the pack. My father outstretched his arms; a friendly, human gesture._

_“Gentleman, how may I help you on this fine day?” he asked. I could tell he was trying to shield himself from the sun as he lifted his arm above his head._

_“We’re here for Geneviève Duval, for murder.” One of the officials grumbled. “Step aside, sir.”_

_“I can assure you, Geneviève has done nothing wrong. She’s a humble baker.” Jacques defended._

_“She is accused of murder of not only Jeanne, but also under the suspicion of Jeanne’s parent’s murder years ago!” Maman put her hands over her face, muffling a cry. “Sir, please move aside, or you will be tried for protecting a guilty person.”_

_“She’s innocent, I assure you.” My father continued. “Perhaps you should look into your suspects again.”_

_“Her son went missing shortly after Jeanne’s murder, sit. We believe she killed him as well.” The other officer clarified. “For her reasons, we do not know, but we are certain she is connected to the crimes.”_

_“Francis,_ run _.” Maman muttered under her breath. “It is for your own safety, sweetheart.” She pushed me towards the mansion’s door, despite my protests, and I heard heavy footsteps behind us._

_"The boy is not dead, he is here.” Jacques announced. He pushed Maman aside and tugged on my shirt collar, dragging me down to the angry mob._

_“_ Sacrebleu!” _someone gasped. “The boy lives!”_

_"He should be taken into custody as well as his mother!”_

_“They’re both murderers!” My father lifted his hand up to quiet the crowd, smirking._

_“Now, now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” He soothed. “Francis is a good boy, and Geneviève sent him here to me to receive a better education. Isn’t that right, Francis?” My father looked down at me with a conceited smile._ Learn to smile, Francis. The lies will set you free. _I shifted my footing and glared at my father. “His facial expression changed from false happiness to impatience. “Francis, tell them.” I looked back at my Maman, who watched us in terror, wrapping her arms around herself._

_“My Maman is innocent, as am I,” I replied. I raised my hand and pointed at my father. “But this man, he’s the one you want.”_

_“Francis!” Jacques hissed._

_"Don’t you remember him? He lived in the village for a short amount of time, long enough to seduce my mother and impregnate her with a monster. A hideous monster that is me!” I shouted. “He’s responsible for the murder of Jeanne’s parents and herself! Jacques Bonnefoy is an evil monster, a master mind. If you’re lucky, you’ll escape to tell the truth of what he really is!” My father gripped my throat and pulled my upwards to face him at eye level._

_“You_ imbecile _.” He hissed. “You will regret this.” He dropped me on the ground, facing the crowd once again. I scrambled to my feet and ran for my Maman. She stared at me with wide eyes, frozen in fear._

_“Francis, what have you done?” she asked, in a soft voice._

_“They’ll arrest him and you’ll be safe.” I answered, proudly. “Come on, let’s run and be free from—“_

_“Francis…no.” she whispered. “You have no idea what you’ve done, what you’ve started. Vampires are vengeful creatures, and it’s naïve of you to betray your father. Apologise at once.”_

_“No, I will not! He’s an awful man and you know it! You said it yourself moments ago!” I shouted. Maman lowered her head and sighed._

_“It’s not that simple, Francis. Your father…” she began, but was interrupted by the loud screaming behind us. I spun around to see my father holding a headless body (most likely one of the officers) and blood dripped down his hand and arm. He held the head with his other hand by the hair and swung it around as if it were a toy. The crowd began stepping away as my father let out a cackle._

_“My son was right about one thing; if you’re lucky, you’ll be able to tell others about the true power of a monster, so look closely my dear friends!” he shouted. He tossed the head aside and dropped the body beside him. He slowly brought his arm to his face, licking the remaining blood that soaked his skin. “But you won’t be so lucky, I can assure you that. I will be the last thing you see in this world.” His laughing decrescendoed to a growl as he sprinted towards the terrorized crowd. The other officer pulled out a dagger, but before he could attempt to defend himself, Jacques bit his neck, and the poor man was drained of his blood instantly. Many were frozen from terror, crossing themselves and screaming: “Have mercy on us, Lord!” But of course, they were the next in line to be killed. In a few minutes, the angry mob had been put to rest, and my father stood among their corpses, proud of himself. He was covered in blood, soaked from his head to his leather shoes; he laughed._

_"It’s been so long since I’ve had a wholesome meal!” he shouted. “What a delight!” His laughter grew louder and more manic as he slowly turned around to face Maman and I. “And now, it’s time for dessert!” But before he could lay eyes on us, we were gone, running into the forest behind his estate._

* * *

 

Francis stepped into his office to find Harold Archibald pacing around his desk. Francis bit his lip, letting out a somewhat relieved sigh. “Harold,” he muttered, closing the door behind him. “What brings you here?” Harold stopped in his tracks and marched towards him.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” he asked, poking Francis’ chest. “You’re the killer, aren’t you?” Francis raised his eyebrows.

“ _Pardon_?” he replied, shocked.

“Lukas informed me that the killer is always someone we’d least expect; no one suspects you, so it has to be—“ Harold continued.

“You look very tired, Harold. When was the last time you had a full night’s sleep?” Francis asked. Harold shook his head and laughed nervously.

“How can anyone sleep in this town when a vampire lurks among us?!” he snapped. “If you turn yourself in now, Mister Bonnefoy, perhaps Lukas will be kinder to you in your punishment!” Francis rolled his eyes.

“What strange tales has Mister Bondevik planted in your head, Harold?” he sighed, gently putting his hands on Harold’s shoulders. “Perhaps we should get you a therapist?”

“I trust Lukas Bondevik, Mister Bonnefoy!” Harold shouted, pushing Francis back. “He’s an _honest_ man, unlike you!” Francis scowled. He was growing impatient; it was time to shut Harold Archibald up for good. Harold grabbed Francis’ arm and pulled him towards the door. “I’m going to have you confess to the whole village and put an end to this!”

“Harold,” Francis grumbled. “Let go of me.”

“The village will finally be able to live peacefully again. No more nightmares…” Harold rambled on.

“Mister Archibald,” Francis repeated. “If you know what’s best for you, let go.” Harold swung the door open, rambling on and on about the peace of the village when Francis pulled his arm away and in turn, gripped Mister Archibald’s arm. “I said,” he hissed, bending his arm a bit the opposite way. “Let,” Crack. “Me,” Snap. “Go.” Pop.

Francis clamped is hand over Harold Archibald’s mouth before he could let out a scream. He dragged the distressed man back into the office, shoving him to the floor and slammed the door shut.

“M-mister Bonnefoy,” Harold stammered. “I-I’m t-t-terribly sorry if I-I offended you in anyway.”

“No offense taken,” Francis replied, with a smile. “I have a terrible temper; apologies about your arm.” Francis leaned against his desk and crossed his arms, frowning; this was the monster, the beast Jeanne spoke about. The beast that resides within his soul. Deep down, Francis meant no harm to the frightened man before him, but the monster inside had a hunger, a craving that needed to be fulfilled, or Francis would be led down a path of self-destruction. Though he wasn’t fully deprived, he was still extremely famished. He could not help it; but Harold Archibald was no innocent man.

“Please, f-forgive me, Francis,” Harold pleaded. “Have mercy.” Francis’ lips curled into a smirk as he moved towards Harold and knelt down to the floor. Francis hummed, tracing Harold’s neckline with a single finger. Oh, how he loved it when his prey came crawling to him instead of the other way around.

“No need to beg, Harold,” Francis whispered. “I _am_ being kind, after all.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is officially spring break for me and as promised, I have updated!! In this chapter, I decided to go a little bit more into Francis' dark side (everyone has one, but feel free to scold me for possibly going a little bit out of character here). This chapter is pretty violent as well; I hope no one takes offense. I plan to update again before my spring break ends (I will most likely be going on hiatus again until graduation). Comments and critiques are welcomed and very much appreciated!!) 
> 
> -Katelyn


	12. Caged

Francis _hated_ screamers, especially when he was doing his best to be quiet and discreet himself. Harold Archibald was a _terrible_ screamer, so much that Francis had to tie him to a chair, shove a cloth down Harold’s throat and lock him up in the office closet for the rest of the day. “Some people just can’t keep their mouth shut, can they?” Francis murmured, slamming the door shut. He rubbed his hands together and plopped down in his desk chair, letting out a sigh. Life was much easier when the prey was defenseless and didn’t team up with pesky, Norwegian sorcerers. As occasional thumping came from the closet (Harold _insisted_ on kicking the door), Francis tended to his paperwork. Attempting to “govern” a village was tough and tedious work; Francis _hated_ it. It all reminded him of his horrendous father, and Francis wished to ignore his past as much as he possibly could.

_Thump. Thump. Thu-thump._

“The more you kick, Harold, the longer you will stay in there!” Francis taunted, smirking to himself. Muffled screams came through the wooden door and the Frenchman chuckled. He rather enjoyed _torturing_ Mister Archibald; he deserved it for bringing Lukas to the town and putting Francis in danger. “Screaming too, it’s best if you keep quiet. I might let you live.”

Silence.

“That’s better.” Francis mused, signing a sheet of paper. Now, he just needed to wait for the day to pass and the clock to strike midnight.

* * *

 

Lukas was awake and about, Arthur knew that much. _I absolutely hate sneaking around._ Arthur thought to himself, lifting himself up onto a tree branch. _It doesn’t suit me one bit._ It had been several years since Arthur had climbed a tree, so he slipped and fell until he was able to balance his body to open his bedroom window. He stumbled through, tumbling and knocking books and vials over. “Bloody shit!” he spat, rubbing his head as he sat up. There was a small chuckle behind him.

“ _God morgen_ , Arthur.” Lukas muttered. “The front door was unlocked.” Arthur swallowed and turned away, trying to think quickly.

“I forgot my keys.” he answered, standing up. “My mind has seemed to have gone to rubbish ever since I’ve come back, hasn’t it? I’m terribly sorry, Lukas.”

“No worries; that’s what happens when you are kidnapped by a monster.” Lukas replied, stepping closer. “So, did you find the suspects home?” Arthur shook his head.

“Nope; it was a stupid idea.” he grumbled. “I think I’ll take a bath and get ready for investigations. Wait for me, will you?” Lukas ndded with a small smile.

“Of course.” He answered, stepping out of the room. Arthur let out a sigh of relief and unbuttoned his shirt, and loosened his belt. “By the way,” Lukas called from downstairs. “I have made breakfast. I will save some for you. I also have a surprise for you in the basement!”

“Alright!” Arthur called back. _What the hell would he want with the basement?_ Undressed, Arthur stepped into the bathroom, filling the bathtub with lukewarm water. He moved back to his bedroom and pulled out a small vial from his pants pocket filled with specialized herbs. He smiled to himself; if he didn’t have Francis telling him how to survive as a vampire. As he walked back into the bathroom, a shimmering spark of light caught his eye; his pendant was lying on the ground. “How could I leave you behind?” He bent down to pick up the necklace when he noticed something was off. “Strange, it seems as if your protective seal has been broken. What on earth happened?” He paused, shrugging. “Perhaps it broke when Jeanne arrived.” Though, her simple presence alone wouldn’t be enough to break the spell. Arthur had that pendant for years; its spell was meant to last forever. A powerful creature or sorcerer would have had to of touched it. Jeanne certainly wasn’t strong, so it couldn’t have been her who broke the seal. Still, Arthur shrugged, putting the pendant on the window sill. “I’ll fix it later when I have the time.”

The bath only lasted for a few minutes and Arthur threw on some clothes and hurried downstairs to find his cousin eating his share of his breakfast. Arthur’s nose crinkled up as he nearly gagged at the smell of human food. _It’s time to practice my tolerance to human food, I suppose._ Arthur thought as he pulled out his chair.

“This was very kind of you, Lukas.” Arthur said, monotone. He sat down and picked up his spoon carefully cracking the hardboiled egg. “I apologise for wandering off last night; I want to try to find my kidnapper as soon as possible.” Lukas smirked.

“You should not make idiotic decisions, Arthur.” Lukas muttered. “Nor go out alone. Can you make me a promise?” Arthur froze; the smell of an egg never repulsed him so much until he turned. Were eggs always this disgusting?

“Sure,” Arthur agreed, placing his spoon next to his plate.

“You will not go anywhere without me.” Lukas sighed. “Together, we will investigate the citizens in this town. No more wandering and disappearing without me knowing. You were kidnapped; the last thing you should be doing is walking into the forest and getting lost.” Lukas paused, glancing over the table at Arthur. “Or worse, kidnapped once again.” Arthur chuckled nervously.

“Lukas, we’re not children anymore. You don’t have to be my babysitter anymore.” he teased. “I’ll be fine.” Lukas scowled, clutching his spoon.

“You said you would promise me.” he grumbled. He offered his hand and smirked. “Shake on it.” Arthur hesitated and stood up.

“I promise not to wander off, you have my word.” he said, walking away. He heard Lukas mutter under his breath and his chair squeak against the floor. “Come on, let’s go, we should interview Mrs. Owens to—“ Before Arthur could open the front door, Lukas pushed him back.

“No, I need more than your _word_.” Lukas hissed. “Shake my hand, Arthur, please.” It was extremely rare to see Lukas angry, and when he did cross that line between frustrated to angry, you _needed_ to stay out of his way. Arthur bumped into the wall behind him and gulped. “Arthur, I _need_ you to do this for me. We’re cousins, after all.”

“Fine,” Arthur mumbled. He shook Lukas’ hand and was then being pushed outside, around the corner of his cottage to the cellar entrance. “What in the world are you doing? Why are we—“ As Lukas opened the cellar door, the sun’s light trickled in and revealed some sort of magic laboratory with a chair sitting in the center of tables covered with potions. The chair, a simple wooden chair taken from Arthur’s kitchen, held chains and shackles, waiting for a victim to contain. “L-Lukas?”

“Arthur, I know what you have become, and I can’t risk putting you or the rest of the town in danger.” Lukas said, guiding Arthur down the stone steps. “As I research more about vampires, the more I can do about a cure to help you.”

“This is absurd!” Arthur shouted. “You can’t change a vampire back into a human! I know how to control myself, I swear!!” Lukas pushed Arthur into the chair, locking his wrists and ankles into the shackles. “Lukas! Please!” Arthur begged.

“I am doing what is best for you. Francis is an evil man and a terrible influence on you and this town.” he continued. “I was called to this place to protect and kill the demon that plagues them.” He paused, straightening himself up. “I made a promise to your Mamma when I left Oslo that I would be sure you were safe from the curse Morgane placed on you before her destruction. This is for you own good, Arthur. I am protecting you.”

“Lukas, no! If you lock up a vampire, he will become more dangerous than before! I could mix you up with someone else and lash out on you!” Arthur pleaded. Lukas walked back up the stone steps out of the cellar and turned back around to face his beloved cousin.

“Vampires thrive on the blood of others, drinking and draining their blood.” he murmured, dusting his hands off. “I can save you by draining you of vampire blood and give back your human blood. That is how I will save you, Arthur.” And he slammed the doors shut and locked them up with chains.

* * *

 

_Maman and I had been running frantically deeper into the forest. I ran much faster than my Maman; so I held her hand and pulled her along with me as I sprinted. “Francis,” Maman gasped. “We need to…stop. I need to catch my breath.”_

_"If we stop, Jacques will catch up to us quickly!” I shouted back. I hesitated in my steps and turned to Maman. “I can carry you, if you’re tired.” Maman frowned._

_"I’m fully capable of running, I just need to catch my breath!” Maman snapped. She stopped and leaned over her knees, gasping for air. “Where are we going? We can’t go home, dear.”_

_“We’ll end up in a village; forests usually lead to somewhere.” I replied, trying to catch my breath as well. “But we have to keep moving.” Maman shook her head, pushing back her wavy, golden hair._

_“Give me a minute.” she gasped. “My legs feel like jam.”_

_“Maman!!” I shouted. I grabbed her hand and picked her up. My father was right about one thing, I’d give him that; humans were weak at everything, even running! “I’ll find a way to get us out of the forest. We’ll escape Jacques once and for all.” When I turned to run, I was punched forcefully into a tree, not having a clue as to wear my mother went. As my vision cleared, I saw my father standing before me. His eyes were glowing red and he wore the most terrifying smile on his lips._

_“Do you really think you can escape your own father, Francis?” he taunted. He gripped my neck tightly, cackling as he lifted me in the air. “You are nothing without me, Francis! You will get yourself killed!” He tossed me behind him, making sure I slammed my head against another tree. I groaned as my body naturally slumped against the trunk. “You were a pathetic human, and you’re a pathetic vampire. So weak, so puny, so_ worthless _.” He put his hand over my head and turned it so I could face my Maman, who lied semi-conscious on the ground. “You can’t even save your precious Maman. Maybe today I will put her out of her emotional misery.”_

_“No!” I screamed, attempting to push him away and stand up. My father immediately pushed me back down, laughing._

_“No, don’t kill her? Hmm, perhaps I shouldn’t; after all, that would be an insult to you.” he whispered. He gently put his hands on my shoulders, his lips lingering over my ear. “Vampires become stronger through drinking human blood. They become even stronger when they consume the blood of their family.”_

_"_ Non _! I will not!” I cried, shrugging him off. I sprinted towards Maman and shook her awake. “Maman, come on, we need to go—“_

_“Francis,” Jacques hollered, pulling me back by tugging my hair. “You want to make me proud of you, right? You don’t want to be a disappointment in my eyes,_ oui _?”_

_“I’m d-don't…I refuse!” I cried._

_“Fine, if that’s the case,” he continued, pushing me aside. “Consider this your punishment for disobeying me._ Twice _.” Maman’s eyes fluttered open as she looked up to my father who stood over her. “_ Bonsoir _, Geneviève; did you have a nice nap?” He grabbed her by the hair, laughing. Maman yelped, waving her arms in hopes to smack him._

_"Let me go, you bastard!” she screamed. “I never should have let you live with me! I never should have fallen in love with you!” Jacques smirked._

_“Oh, didn’t your father teach you to not trust men?” he mocked. “Oh, poor, Geneviève; how sad you must be to see that your life means nothing to me, and to your son become a monster. You were just a pawn of mine. Poor, poor Geneviève.” He shook her back and forth, laughing at his own entertainment._

_“If you wanted a son, why didn’t you sleep with another of your kind?” she questioned. She managed to finally push him away, but fell on her side. It was then I noticed that her left leg was broken, snapped in half and twisted the other way from when my father must’ve thrown her away from me. Jacques crinkled his nose in disgust._

_“It’s been centuries since I’ve lad with another vampire. I don’t know if you’re aware, but female vampires are too jealous and territorial, and they aren’t as fun to play with.” He began, scratching his blood stained stubble. “You see, there’s a reason why we just bite humans to multiply; it’s so much simpler. But, alas, I wanted a son, but vampires often struggle to bear children. It’s possible, obviously, but it takes too many attempts and I am an impatient man,” He pulled her up by the arm and leaned in closer to her face, licking her lips. “It’s so much easier to get a human woman pregnant; it really only takes one try. The only unfortunate thing is that humans are weak, and more often than not, they cannot give birth to such a creature. Sometimes, the child consumes the mother at a premature age, eating its way out of her. And without a mother, a child cannot survive. It’s quite gruesome.” My father curled his lips back, revealing his fangs and laughed once again. “It’s unfortunate for you, Geneviève. I still don’t understand why, but, you were strong enough to give birth to Francis. That, or Francis is a very, very wake vampire.”_

_“I am not weak!!!” I screamed. I sprinted towards him and pulled him back. He turned and hissed at me, his eyes turning a brighter red. “Leave Maman alone! If you want something to eat, take me! I don’t want to live anymore!” Jacques grabbed my arm and dragged me towards my mother. She looked up at me, her breathing still heavy from running endlessly earlier._

_“You don’t want to live anymore? Then that’s exactly why you should!” he said, smugly. “Consume her, consumer her blood. Take back your strength, Francis!”_

_“No! Please, just let us go! We’ll never come back!” I begged._

_“Consume her! You’ll be a stronger vampire!” Jacques continued. “It is a tradition for vampires to consume their parents or turners blood! Soon, you will drink mine too, but you are too pathetic to challenge me. So, take her blood. Put her out of her misery.” I shook my head, pushing him away._

_“I will not kill my mother!” I screamed, my voice growing hoarse. “I refuse to stoop myself to your level! I am a better person than you, you ugly man!” Jacques scowled and gripped my neck firmly, growling._

_“When are you going to get it through that thick head of yours that you are_ not _human anymore?! You are a creature of the night, a monster, a_ vampire _.” He yelled. Spit landed on my face and I cringed; his breath was so foul and I wanted to cry. Maman never asked for any of this, I never asked for any of this, yet, here we were. My Maman on the ground with a broken leg because of my father and I stood facing the beast, demanding me to kill the woman who had put me on this earth._

_“Do as you’re told! You are a vampire! Embrace your true nature!” My father chanted and pushed me towards where Maman was. She stared at me, tears racing down her cheeks as I kneeled in front of her._

_“Maman,” I choked. I blinked quickly, fighting my own tears. Whenever I saw Maman weep, I wept with her; it is impossible for a child not to do so. “I’ll find a way—“_

_“Shh,” Maman shushed. “Don’t let your father see your tears,_ mon enfant _. I fear he will abuse you more when I am gone.”_

_“I’ll find a way to save you.” I replied, shaking my head. Maman reached up and pushed back a strand of my haid behind my ear._

_“Oh Francis, don’t you see? If you kill me, you will live and find hope. If you are killed, your father will still consume me. He will never kill his own flesh and blood, or so I would hope so.” she said gently. “You have no choice, Francis, because there is no other choice. Do as he says, and make him regret it later.” I let out a whimper and put a hand over my muth. “Francis, whatever you do,_ do not _cry. You cannot let Jacques see your tears. You must be strong.”_

_“I’ve already lost Jeanne, I can’t lose you too.” I don’t want to be alone!” I cried, wiping away my tears. Maman smiled sadly._

_“I will always be here for you, dear. In your heart.” she said, pointing to my chest. “And if I am o die, I want to die by the hands of my own son. Not the hateful man who tricked me.”_

_“What are you doing?! Make the kill!_ Now _!!!” Jacques shouted._

_“He’s right, Francis. Do it before it’s too late.” Maman agreed. I licked my lips and opened my mouth; it had been a while since I made my very own kill. Old blood that sat in old wine bottles had nothing compared to fresh, still pulsing blood. I_ was _hungry, the caged monster told me so. But Maman deserved to live, she deserved to live forever. “Francis!” Maman shouted._

_“Listen to your mother, Francis,” I heard my father grumble behind me. “She understands the situation loud and clear.” I helped her sit up but kept my head down; I couldn’t bring myself to look at her. How could a murderer look at their victim?_

_“Mama,” I muttered. “I’m sorry it has to be this way.” Maman pulled me closer and gave me a final kiss on my forehead._

_“I know,” she sighed. “Just remember that your Maman always loves you.” As she said her final words, I sunk my teeth into her neck, tears racing down my cheeks, mixing with the blood that collected at the corners of my mouth. Moments passed until I felt her corpse fall limp in my arms, and I gently laid her down to the earth. Her lifeless eyes stared up back at me, as I pulled at my hair, screaming for what I had become._

* * *

 

Francis had ordered Harold to go home at the strike of midnight. He followed him from a distance, keeping an eye out for any onlookers in their homes. Fortunately, Harold lived on the southern side of the village’s forest; Francis wouldn’t have to worry about any witnesses once arriving in Harold’s home. Naturally, everyone was asleep, so truly, Francis had nothing to worry about.

He watched Harold limp ahead of him, holding his broken arm for support. Francis smirked to himself; oh how the satisfaction of almost going for the kill felt! Harold pulled out his keys, groaning in pain and unlocked the front door. Francis stood at a distance, licking his lips. He watched as Harold stepped inside, lighting a few lanterns. After counting to ten, Francis stepped inside the quaint house and slammed the door behind him. Harold flinched, wincing and quickly supported his limp, useless arm.

“What can I get you, Harold? What’s your favorite meal? Steak?” Francis asked.

“I’m afraid I don’t follow.” Harold answered, looking over his shoulder.

“I feel terrible about your arm, Harold. I want you to have some comfort…” Francis clarified.

“Before you kill me?!” Harold finished. “You truly are a morbid man. I don’t want anything to eat.” He laughed slightly, falling onto one of his dining chairs. “I just wish Lukas was here, he’d kill you straight away.”

“Lukas isn’t here,” Francis sang. “And he won’t be until the morning. Unless, he knew you were approaching me.”

“Sadly, I didn’t inform him of my plan.” Harold sigh at his own stupidity. “Are you going to kill him?” Francis shrugged, slipping off his coat.

“I may, I may not; I haven’t decided.” he answered. He rolled up his sleeves, humming to himself. “There’s someone else involved who would prefer it if Lukas lived.”

“Who?” Harold asked, slouching in his chair.

“Arthur, of course.” Harold’s eyes widened as Francis grabbed his shirt collar and pulled him up to his feet. “I must thank you, Harold; my life hasn’t been this interesting since I live in France. My father was a true shit-head.”

“As all vampires are, I presume. I’m sure your mother was too.” Harold countered, his voice choked.

“No, she was a sweetheart. She deserved the world. She was human. Only my father was a vampire.” Francis explained. “May she rest in peace.”

“Why do you do this?” Harold blurted. Francis chuckled.

“Why does the wolf hunt the sheep?” he replied, with a smug grin. “It’s the circle of life, and humans are silly to think they can avoid it.” Francis licked his lips again. “Brace yourself, Mister Archibald; this might hurt.” Before Harold could reply, Francis tore his collar and sunk his fangs into his flesh. Harold’s blood was far from sweet, in fact, it was sour and bitter. But, blood is blood, and Francis did his best to keep Harold from squirming and shouting out.

“Have mercy!” Harold cried out. Francis released him, giving him a light push so he would fall back into the chair. All of his blood was nearly drained, and Harold Archibald looked as if he had aged fifty years. The poor man attempted to stand, but Francis knelt beside him, cradling his jaw.

“Oh Harold, do you want to stay like this? Shriveled up like a raisin, like a dried fruit?” Francis asked, amused. “You won’t last long like this; as I speak, your heart must be failing. There’s no way it can replenish everything for you to continue living.”

“Have mercy on me.” Harold repeated, his voice like a frog’s.

“Do you wish to die in bliss or in pain? I can arrange either.” Francis continued.

“Just kill me.” he murmured. Francis nodded.

“As you wish.” he sighed. Suddenly, Francis winced at the sound of cracking bones as he snapped Harold’s neck and watched his shriveled corpse fall limply to the floor.

* * *

 

_He did not give her a proper burial; he left her out to rot. He grabbed the back of the collar of my shirt, chocking me as I was forced to stand on my feet. “You’re pathetic,” he growled at me, pushing me in the direction of his mansion. “I refuse to believe that such a runt is of my blood.”_

_He did not weep for her like I; not a single tear was shed for the mother of his child. “Crying is for the weak, crying is for the humans.” he told me, as he shoved me down the stairs of the wine cellar underneath his lavish house. He smacked my face and threatened to shred me of my skin if I continued to sob and scream. “Be a fucking man.”_

_He did not let me mourn for her. Instead, he tied me to a chair and emptying his freshest bottles filled with blood in front of me, ordering me to clean the mess with my hunger. He tightened chains around my chest, he put shackles on my ankles, he hated his child. He refused to let me see the light of day._

_The man that was to be my father, my protector, became my enemy, and the place that was to be my shelter became my cage, my prison._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woowhee. This chapter was a lot of work and energy!! I'm sorry for the delay, I know I promised this back in March. School became very hectic after spring break, including several projects and 10 paged papers. But, I am now a college graduate, so I'm somewhat more free than I was months prior. Anyways, this chapter is very dark and depressing. I suppose it can't be avoided with this type of plot, which is still thickening as we go along. Hopefully it won't take me as long to upload the next chapter; I've already begun writing it and I'll type it up when I go on vacation with family in a few weeks. 
> 
> I really hope you enjoy this chapter, regardless of the sadness. If you would like something that would cheer you up and if you want a bit of comedy, you can check out the Fruk fan fiction I'm writing with shutthefrukup (called Remote Interest). 
> 
> ~Katelyn


	13. Experiment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some disturbing things that happen in this chapter and I want to be sure that no one is triggered. If you're easily squeamish and disturbed, please proceed with caution. I apologize. 
> 
> -Katelyn

**_The London Clan’s headquarters was comprised of two large, separate buildings; one was used for experiments and research of magical creatures while the other was a hospital for Children of Magic. After Morgane’s destruction, Aunt Jelena rushed Mamma to the London Clan for healing and there we stayed for weeks on end as the priestesses did their best to heal Mamma’s wounds._ **

**_“I am bored.” Lukas whined._ **

**_“Did you read the book the priestesses gave you?” Aunt Jelena asked. Lukas groaned._ **

**_“_ ** **Five times _, Mamma.” he answered. “Can Arthur and I go wander around?”_**

**_“For the tenth time, Lukas,_ ** **no _.” Aunt Jelena replied, firmly. “Maybe you can cheer Arthur up?” I sat beside Mamma’s bed, slouching and playing with a loose button. Mamma slept most of the day; besides her bandages and healing potions she was to take, all the priestesses did was give her sleeping spells. It had been a month, and though Mamma had been awake more and more, she was still drowsy when her eyes were open._**

**_All of this was my fault._ **

**_“Can Arthur and I go to the library?” Lukas begged. “We won’t disturb anyone.”_ **

**_“Lukas,” Aunt Jelena began._ **

**_“Let him go, Jelena,” Mamma grumbled. “I can’t stand his whining anymore.”_ **

**_“Mamma!” I cheered, sitting up. Mamma turned her head and smiled at me gently._ **

**_“Do you ever move, sweetie?” she teased. “Go to the library with Lukas.”_ **

**_“But I want—“ I began._ **

**_“Go. Go be a child. For me.” A priestess, who frequented often, stepped inside the room with a tray of bandages and bottles._ **

**_“Good afternoon, Kara.” she greeted._ **

******"Kåra _.” Aunt Jelena corrected._**

**_“I’m here to change your bandages.” she finished. Mamma nodded, pushing herself up as best as she could with her non-injured arm._ **

**_“As I would assume so.” she sighed. The priestess smiled and carefully unwrapped Mamma’s soiled bandages. Mamma grimaced and flinched as the bandages were peeled off of her huge, gaping would on her shoulder. Morgane had bit her horribly, tearing layers of flesh off and nearly gnawing on the bone. We didn’t know how much longer we could stay with the clan; we were losing money the longer the shop stayed closed._ **

**_"Kara, have you tried moving your arm at all?” the priestess asked, wrapping one layer of bandages over the wound._ **

**_“I haven’t,” Mamma answered. “The skin is still growing back.”_ **

**_“Can’t you give her any stronger potions? You need to be caring for the ill, not capturing creatures.” Aunt Jelena grumbled._ **

**_“This is our strongest potion,” the priestess explained, gesturing to the blue bottle resting on the tray. “The ghoul injured her severely; we’re doing the best we can.”_ **

**_“But in Oslo…” Aunt Jelena started._ **

**_“Jelena, she’s doing her job.” Mamma whispered._ **

**_“In Oslo, she would be healed by now. What do you do all day? Finger yourselves?” Aunt Jelena continued._ **

**_“We’ve just captured a vampire, ma’am,” the priestess replied. “We need to keep it contained. We apologize for your frustrations.”_ **

**_“So, keeping a vampire contained is more important than healing a fellow child of magic?!” Aunt Jelena snapped. “Where is the High Priestess of this clan? I must speak with her.”_ **

**_"Jelena!” Mamma hissed._ **

**_“My Lady is not in the office right now. She’s interrogating the vampire, I’m afraid.” The priestess answered._ **

**_“_ ** **Ubrukelig. _” Aunt Jelena hissed under her breath. She spun around on her heel and stomped out of the patient room. Lukas ran to the door, stopping it before it slammed and stared back at me. He waved, silently telling me to join him._**

**_“I’m so sorry about my sister-in-law; she’s got a terrible temper.” Mamma apologized. The priestess shrugged as she pulled off the cork from the bottle._ **

**_“I’m used to it,” she sighed. “It’s our most frequent complaint. We aren’t as good as we used to be.”_ **

**_"Arthur, come on!” Lukas urged, bouncing on his toes a little. I glanced at Mamma before sliding off of my chair and rushed towards an impatient Lukas. He gave me a big, mischievous grin and led me out of the dark patient room into an even darker hallway. “This way,” Lukas muttered, grabbing my wrist and dragging me down the corridor. As we ran through the hallways, groaning and moaning could be heard from the other patients. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve believed that the building was haunted._ **

**_We exited the hospital building and for a brief minute, we were exposed to the cold, crisp fall air. I shivered, but felt relieved; it was my first breath of fresh air in weeks. I could hear the rustle of the trees, the faint call of the migrant birds; I felt the sadness drift away for a moment. But the moment did not last long, for Lukas pulled me into the next building where several priests and priestesses were running about._ **

**_“Lukas, we shouldn’t—“ I started._ **

**_“Shh,” Lukas hushed, glancing at me over his shoulder. “Do not draw attention to yourself; if we are caught, we will be taken back to the smelly hospital.” He led me through the crowds of priests and guided me into a fairly large library._ **

**_“What’s going on outside?” I asked._ **

**_“Did you not hear the nurse? They caught a vampire; one of the most deadliest monsters out there.” Lukas answered, pushing a chair to a bookshelf. “They are trying to find ways to kill it, probably.”_ **

**_"Why?” I asked._ **

**_"Vampires are the vermin of the earth! Poison! Do you want them lurking about, hunting innocent people?” Lukas shouted, using the shelves as a ladder._ **

**_“I know, but,” I murmured. “Why can’t we help them like werewolves or ghouls or the Voices or any other creature?”_ **

**_“Vampires have no heart. They have no humanity.” I frowned._ **

**_“Have you ever met one?” I asked. Lukas groaned._ **

**_“I do not need to,” he hissed. He then smiled. “Say, do you know the two ways a vampire can be created?” I shook my head as Lukas sat at the top of the bookshelf, swinging his legs. “The first one is traditional; you have to be bitten and follow through a painful transformation. The other has not been confirmed, but my Mamma told me that if a ghoul rots in the Void long enough and eats enough flesh, it becomes a vampire.” Lukas laughed. “Is that not fascinating?”_ **

**_“So, Morgane would’ve been a vampire if she stayed in the Void longer?” I questioned._ **

**_“Possibly.” Lukas mumbled._ **

**_“Can’t vampires give birth to a baby?” I asked. Lukas only shrugged._ **

**_“They are dead, so most likely not. But I do not know.” he answered. “Hey, what do you want to do? It is your first time sneaking out of the hospital.”_ **

**_“Maybe we can go outside; these buildings reek.” I sighed. Lukas grinned._ **

**_“You do not want to explore this building? You do not want to see the vampire?” he asked. I turned and scowled at him._ **

**_“_ ** **You _want to do those things. I just want to enjoy some fresh air.” I repeated._**

**_“English people are so boring.” Lukas whined, climbing back down. “Fine, we can stand outside for a little bit. But I wanna see the va---“ The library door swung open and walked in a plump and round priest, holding an open book. He slowly walked around the tables, bumping into the corners and was muttering to himself. Lukas glared at me, silently telling me to not make a sound until the priest glanced up from his book._ **

**_“What’re you two doin’ ‘ere?” he demanded. He was awful looking he had a huge mole on his chin, his right eye was discolored and staring the opposite way, and he was missing a few teeth. “No kids allowed in the main buildin’! I’m gunna have tah take you to the High Priestess! She’ll give you a punishment for sneakin’ in ‘ere.” He dropped his book and grabbed the both of us by the arm and dragged us out of the room._ **

* * *

 

It had been days since Lukas had spoken with Harold Archibald. It had been a week since Lukas had even seen Harold walking about the town. As he prepared himself for the day and stepped outside, he heard shrieking coming from the cellar. Lukas sighed and frowned; he didn’t want to torture his own cousin. Arthur was like a brother to Lukas, and he hated hearing Arthur screaming in pain and hunger. But there was no other choice; if Lukas was to protect Arthur from himself, he had to keep him locked up.

The sun peeked through the heavy, grey clouds and Lukas winced at the light. His headaches were constant now, and slowly there were morphing into throbbing migraines. He had to press on, though, for he had a feeling that there was a reason as to why Harold Archibald hadn’t made an appearance in the past week.

Lukas ventured through the village and through the southern portion of the forest and came upon Harold’s home. He knocked on the beautifully carved wooden door and waited. “Mister Archibald, it’s Lukas! Please open up!” Lukas hollered. There was silence from the home, and the only response given was the obnoxious caw from the crow resting on the chimney. “Mister Archibald,” Lukas called again, pounding his fist on the door. “I have come to check on you!” He reached for the doorknob and twisted, allowing the door to slowly creak open. “Harold?” Lukas repeated, stepping in.

A horrid, foul, wretched stench greeted Lukas’ nose and the Norwegian nearly gagged at the sight. There, in the dining room, was Harold’s corpse, lying at the foot of the table. His eyes had been wide open and they were now dried out, faded in color and glazed over. Harold’s neck was clearly broken and a wrinkled vampire bite peeked out from his shirt. His body was already decomposing, as the stench gave away. Traumatized, Lukas stepped out of the house and vomited beside the steps.

“That horrid beast…” Lukas hissed, wiping his mouth. “The man did nothing wrong, and you killed him.” Lukas turned back to stare at the body, only to turn back around and vomit once more. _Why didn’t he dispose of the body? Is he taunting me?_ He thought to himself, closing the door. Now, he needed to contact the city council and call for a town meeting. Lukas understood that if he was to be the one to take down Francis, he needed to gather the masses and convince them of the truth. He needed a gang to intimidate the clever vampire.

* * *

Lukas ventured back to the cottage, unlocking the front door. Before he could take care of the newest murder case, he needed to begin Arthur’s treatment for recovery. Well, it was more of an experimentation than it was a treatment and cure for his vampire nature.

Lukas gathered a small collection of specialized utensils in a cloth and a lantern, stepping back out of the cottage. He rounded the corner where the cellar doors were and inhaled deeply. He had to prepare himself mentally for however Arthur would react to him standing before him. As he unlocked the chains on the doors and carefully opened them, he peeked to see Arthur keeping his head low, resting.

“ _God dag_ , Arthur,” Lukas greeted, slowly descending into the cellar. “Have you rested well?” He heard a chuckle rumble from Arthur’s chest; it wasn’t his normal laughter. It was sinister sounding, evil.

“You’ve got some nerve to ask me such a question, Lukas,” Arthur replied, lifting his head up. His eyes were glowing; green eyes glaring back at the Norwegian. “After locking me up and all. What are you doing, staring into the eyes of a beast?”

“I told you, I am going to heal you.” Lukas answered, walking over to the tables pressed up against the wall. Arthur chuckled again.

“There’s no way you could possibly turn me into a human again.” he taunted. “The longer you starve me, deprive me, the more dangerous I become. Chains won’t be able to hold me much longer.” Lukas unfurled the rag, laying out sharp tools and gathered two beakers.

“Arthur, I am the most powerful sorcerer in Oslo and London and probably the whole world.” Lukas said, approaching Arthur. He squatted beside him and pulled his right arm towards him, pressing a knife against his skin. With his free hand, he placed a funnel in the beaker. “And as your cousin, it is also my duty to save you.”

“What are you going to do with my blood?” Arthur asked, slightly intrigued.

“I need a sample to do testing with.” Lukas answered. He pressed the knife harder against Arthur’s flesh, beginning to slice it. Arthur winced and hissed, trying to pull his arm away. “Don’t fight me; it will make your pain worse.” Lukas sliced Arthur’s arm further, stopping at the bend of his elbow. He tilted his arm so that it would easily drip into the funnel.

“Draining my blood will only make me angrier, hungrier.” Arthur murmured. Lukas shook his head.

“A rained vampire is weak and powerless,” he argued. “Surely, you remember the powerless vampire the London Clan captured when we were children? You remember, yes?”

“They killed him…they took his blood and as he was barely alive, they threw him in a pool of water. It was like watching flesh being melted…he drowned and was nothing but a skeleton; a pile of bones preserved at the pool’s floor. Then they kept them…” Arthur replied.

“If they were smart, they would study the bones and come up with some immunization to vampire venom and blood.” Lukas mumbled, standing up. “Draining you of your blood is my best defense against you.”

“So, you drain _me_ of my blood, I’m not the truest problem. What are you going to do with Francis?” Arthur asked, fidgeting. Lukas laughed.

“Kill him.” he answered, smirking. “I have no use for him; he is not a child of magic like us. Once I cure you, we will be praised by all of the clans in Europe. Won’t that be _grand_?”

“He’s not fully vampire,” Arthur added. “His mother was human.” Lukas froze, staring at his cousin. Arthur chuckled. “That’s right; he is something of the impossible. Don’t you want to experiment on him?”

“How do you know he is some kind of hybrid? No human could give birth to a monster!” Lukas snapped. Arthur shrugged.

“Just ask him; I’m certain he’ll tell you the truth. He doesn’t like to lie if he doesn’t have to.” he added. “Francis is a nice bloke, well, once you get past his vampire qualities.”

“You made a pact with that monster, have you not? One of slavery and one of love?” Lukas asked, leaning into Arthur’s face. “Why do you defend him?” Arthur only smirked at him before turning away. Lukas sighed and picked up the beaker of blood, moving over to the tables. “Why do you defend the creature who ruined your life? Hmm?” Still, Arthur refused to answer. Lukas laughed, pouring blood into a vile. “In due time, Arthur,” he said, walking back up the steps. “You will answer me and join my side once again.”

* * *

 

_Why do you defend him?_

Lukas’ last question circled in Arthur’s mind as he remained locked up in his own cellar. Why _did_ he defend Francis Bonnefoy? After what he did, he should’ve killed him on the spot as soon as he awoke from his metamorphosis. In fact, Arthur _wouldn’t_ have defended him a few months ago, even after he turned. He _hated_ Francis Bonnefoy. Not only was he a vampire, but he was a damned _Frenchman_. So. Why did Arthur defend a stupid, French vampire?

If he gave into Lukas’ petty mind games, he would believe it was the pact (whatever the hell that was) he and Francis made when Arthur turned. However, Arthur knew better; there had been no pact that night. In fact, he knew Francis wanted Arthur as a servant when he turned him. But things never turned out that way; Francis had changed his mind. What was Arthur to Francis? That was the truer question indeed.

Arthur tugged on his chains, groaning. The slice on his arm burned like hell; shouldn’t it be healing by now? Or had Lukas cut so deep that with vampire powers, he couldn’t heal. Or maybe because he was injured, he needed to feed? Did feeding speed up the process? Actually, most monsters he knew of needed to feed in order to feel better. In a way, humans were the same.

_If I could just undo these bloody chains._ Arthur thought to himself. Of all the things Lukas had done to him, this was _by far_ the worst. And of course, Lukas would own chains that did not abide by magic’s requests. Lukas was a clever sorcerer and unfortunately, he was a trickster.

“Hasn’t Francis noticed that I’m gone? I’m missing?” Arthur whispered to himself. There is was again; Arthur depending upon Francis. Wasn’t it Francis’ fault for putting him in a position like this? So why would Arthur want him to rescue him?

_Because he’s the only one who can._

Arthur’s blood on the chair and the floor was beginning to smell foul; the iron smell was combining with the natural must of the cellar, and Arthur felt sick. “Damn you, Lukas,” he muttered. “Damn you to hell.” He tugged on the chains again, letting out a whimper. He could feel the panic rising within him, bubbling like a volcano. Suddenly, the air felt thin and his breathing became heavy. A panic attack was _exactly_ what he needed. He began pulling on the chains frantically, and tears slowly raced down his cheeks. He didn’t want to _die_ in such a wretched place.

The chains around his left arm became loose, and Arthur felt himself calm down a bit. He carefully twisted himself so that his fresh wound wouldn’t rub against the rusted chains as he freed his other arm. The smell of his blood grew ever more potent and Arthur was sure he was going to vomit. The Brit lurched forward and heaved, only hearing the splatter against the floor. He could feel the warmth on his ankles; he had vomited on himself. Squeamish, Arthur, pulled on the chains again.

How degrading it was to be locked in a cellar, living in your own vomit? Soon, his own piss would be added to the mix. All because your “cousin” was certain he could save you from your own damnation.

_Why do you defend him?_

That question still wasn’t answered, but how could it be? Did Arthur have to answer to the twat who locked him up? No, he did not. He didn’t have to a damn thing for that blasted Norwegian. Arthur was no longer just a child of magic, but he was part of a new “community” of vampires. He was his own kind.

He, indeed, did not have to answer to Lukas. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya again! There should be another chapter on its way following this one; maybe 2 more chapters if I'm lucky. But, there's at least going to be 1 update before I leave for Italy. I want to apologize again for any disturbing and disgusting things that occur in this chapter. I also want to apologize for this story being a complete and absolute mess. My hope is that the next few chapters will lead us to the end (the end is near, I swear!!). I hope you have the patience to stick around to see how things turn out. Again, I'm sorry for the disgusting things that happen and I hope you were not bothered too much. 
> 
> ~Katelyn


	14. Vessel

**_Lukas and I were shoved through several narrow hallways and soon arrived to two huge doors, covered with carvings and paintings of Celtic design. The priest pushed the both of us aside and pounded on the door with his wart covered fists. “You two are gunna be in plenty of trouble!” he gloated, as if he had captured the world’s most horrible criminals. “The Lady certainly won’t be happy to see you.” I gulped; no child liked to be in trouble, especially me. Lukas was the sneaky one and half the time, he just dragged me along for the fun of it. Now, together, we were going to be punished by the High Priestess of the London Clan._ **

**_The two doors swung open backwards and there stood a beautiful woman in her mid to late thirties before us. She raised an eyebrow at the priest and a small smirk on her lips. “Harry,” she said, with an unamused tone. “What can I do you for?”_ **

**_“I found these two rugrats scramblin’ around the library. Touchin’ books with their sticky fingers and wot not!” he answered. Lukas lifted up his hands and wiggled his fingers._ **

**_“Our fingers are not sticky, Miss.” he murmured. Typical Lukas; always had to be the smart mouth. The High Priestess chuckled at Lukas’ comment and stepped aside._ **

**_“I understand your concern, Harry, but I see nothing wrong with having two boys, who are children of magic like us, roaming the library,” she said, with a smile. “However, I have a problem with them being unattended. Boys, where are your parents or guardians?”_ **

**_“My Mamma is in the hospital.” I answered. “Kåra Haakonsson.” The Lady nodded._ **

**_“Yes, the one who was nearly eaten by a ghoul,” she muttered. “That must mean you’re Arthur; the son of Morgane Kirkland.” I wish she hadn’t called me_ ** **Morgane’s _son. I wanted nothing to do with that woman._**

**_“Yes.” I replied, simply. She smiled wider._ **

**_“I’ve been meaning to speak with you, Arthur. Please come in.” I took one glance at Lukas before stepping in, and naturally, Lukas followed suit. “Thank you, Harry, you may go back to your duties.” Harry slouched in disappointment as the Priestess closed the door. She shuffled over to her desk and sat down in her throne like chair. “My name is Guinevere; feel free to call me Guin.”_ **

**_“Lady Guinevere, we’re really sorry for wandering off…” I blurted. “We were just so…so bored and…”_ **

**_“Arthur, child, it’s okay. I was like you once, and to just sit in a room for hours on end is_ ** **brutal _.” Lady Guin said, sweetly. “Harry is honestly a twat; he has been trying to flirt with me nonstop since his transfer. He hasn’t even realized that I’m now married.”_**

**_“So, why do you want to talk to Arthur?” Lukas blurted. I gave him a glare; why was he always so blunt? Lady Guinevere nodded and folded her hands in her lap._ **

**_“It’s about your mother, Arthur,” she answered, facing me. “Morgane, I mean.” I groaned._ **

**_“Do we have to?” I grumbled._ **

**_“Morgane and I were very good friends when she was alive; I was her maid of honor at her wedding and her midwife for Alistair and Laughlin’s birth,” she continued. “What I didn’t know was that she was stripping them of their magic in hopes to be a powerful sorceress and priestess. That’s when I noticed her mental stability declining.”_ **

**_“I already know this, Lady Guinevere.” I mumbled._ **

**_“After Dylan was born, I informed the former Lady then that Morgane wasn’t qualified or well enough to be chosen for the High Priestess position of the London Clan. I was chosen instead, and ever since then, she was out for blood,” she continued. “Three years later, we had to take her into custody when we discovered that she was guilty of not only stealing her sons’ magic, but she had murdered your father. Your father was such a gentleman, by the way. Bless his soul for staying and supporting Morgane as she descended into insanity.” Lady Guin paused and sighed. “Anyway, we arrested her, and quickly found out that she was six months pregnant with you. Once you were born, she was so protective over you. I had never seen her so protective for her other sons, so it was strange to see her so territorial with you. We had to take you and your brothers away from her because we had to keep her imprisoned. We eventually executed her, for her own good, two years after your birth.”_ **

**_“What did you do with me and my siblings once you took us away from her?” I asked._ **

**_“All of the Priestesses took turns taking care of the four of you,” she explained. “After hearing his mother was killed, he could no longer trust us so Alistair took the three of you and ran.” I looked down, pulling on a stray string on my shirt._ **

**_“That’s how we ended up in an orphanage.” I muttered._ **

**_“I had forgotten about Morgane and believed that after her execution, I would never hear about or from her. Until this incident with Kåra.” Lady Guin leaned forward and frowned. “Arthur, I heard what happened from your Aunt, but I want to hear things from your side of the story. What happened, exactly?”_ **

**_“She was following me…Morgane was,” I began. “Lukas could see her, and he told me that a woman was calling to me. I wanted to meet her, because I don’t remember anything from when she was alive. Alistair always told me she was gentle and sweet, always singing lullabies to us so that we could fall asleep. Laughlin always talked about how she made the best jam in the town and baked the best cookies and—“_ **

**_“We did let her hold you in your first year, for feeding purposes,” Lady Guin interrupted. “She loved singing the Coventry Carol to you. I always thought it was quite morbid of her to do so.” Lady Guinevere sighed, pushing her curly black hair back. “Your brothers probably kept singing the carol to you once we weaned you from Morgane.”_ **

**_“So, what_ ** **else _do you want to talk to Arthur about, my Lady?” Lukas mumbled. Lady Guinevere eyed Lukas suspiciously and stood up from her desk._**

**_“Walk with me, will you?”_ **

* * *

 

_Well, this is odd,_ Francis thought to himself. _Neither Arthur nor Lukas has checked in or made an appearance in town._ He turned in his chair to reach for a pen so he could begin signing the hundreds upon hundreds or paperwork he had procrastinated on. He opened a folder when he heard the doors burst open.

Of course, it wasn’t the man he was dying to see.

“Have you no respect for the dead, _Monsieur_ Bonnefoy?!” Lukas shouted, in a somewhat mocking manner. “Leaving a man rotting in his own home? You did not even close his eyes!” Francis let out an exhausted sigh as he stood up.

“Mister Bondevik,” he began. “Do you mind telling me what the hell you’re on about?”

“Harold. Archibald. You murdered him not too long ago, yes? And you left him to rot!” Lukas hissed, leaning against his desk. “Why him, hmm? What did he do to possess you to feed on him?”

“Surely, you must know that he wasn’t an innocent man, as most men aren’t. I’ve seen him much too keen to be around young girls, touching them when they wish to be left alone. I know he was a lonely and desperate man, but one must know boundaries.” Francis explained.

“Liar! Tell me the truth, or I will kill you right now!” Francis narrowed his eyes at him, suspicious. He could smell Arthur’s blood on him, and it was extremely potent. He hadn’t a clue what Lukas had done, but Lukas had spilt Arthur’s blood at some point, and that angered Francis greatly.

“I’ll tell you, _but,_ a compromise is in order.” he offered, crossing his arms.

“Why would I do that?” Lukas hissed. “It is not like you have got vital information for me! Dammit, I should just kill you right now!”

“Interesting.” Francis said.

“What?!”

“It’s interesting how you knew from the beginning that I turned your cousin, but you didn’t kill me right then and there. However, I kill a man who has no connection to you, no sentimental value and yet you’re going to kill me straightaway.” Francis clarified. “Interesting.” Lukas stared at him blankly as Francis walked around his desk. “I’m having trouble understanding you, Lukas Bondevik. You’re so quick to judge me and my kind, and yet, your thirst to spill blood is just as great as mine.”

“Do not compare me to the likes of you.” Lukas spat.

“You want an experiment, don’t you? Something to torture, _oui_?” Francis laughed. “You’re not even the same Lukas who showed up weeks ago to solve this village’s unsolvable problem. _Non_ , you’re someone, some _thing_ else.”

“What are you talking about?” Lukas shouted.

“What have you done to _my_ Arthur? I can smell his blood on you!” Francis yelled. Lukas grinned.

“It is nothing that he cannot handle.” he muttered, smugly. “I am getting rid of _your_ poison in his veins.”

“Where is he?”

“None of your business.”

“Then it’s none of your business as to why I killed Harold Archibald.” Lukas sucked on his teeth, making a loud, snide ‘tch’ sound and rolled onto the back of his heels.

“Mister Bonnefoy, I consider myself a patient man; however, my patience is all gone. How would you like to die? By wooden stake by water burns? Or I can drain your blood and watch you _starve_.” Francis chuckled.

“See? Just as blood thirsty,” he mumbled. “And what will you do with Arthur, hm? You can’t possibly save him, and he’ll never be the same again after you torture him. You’ll be forced to put him through the same fate you put me through.” Lukas glared at him. “You know, I know how powerful you are and you’ve had several opportunities to get rid of me. So many, and yet, you wait? Why are you hesitating?” Lukas remained quiet, shuffling his feet. “Answer me, human.”

“I need Arthur to cooperate with me, and so I cannot kill you yet.” Lukas said, matter of factly. “I cannot kill Arthur.”

“Why not?” Francis questioned. “He’s damned like me, why let him live”

“I need him.” Lukas muttered.

“For what?” Lukas hesitated before lifting up his head high and flashing a wide, evil grin.

“I need his blood.”

* * *

 

**_“You see, Arthur, the London Clan’s expertise is study and research,” Lady Guin explained as we walked down the hallways, making our way back to the hospital. “We are moving towards combining magic with science while Oslo is more focused on staying traditional. They’ve accepted studying the psychology of creatures, but they aren’t moving forward. Keeping tradition can be a hindrance.” I heard Lukas muttered something in Norwegian under his breath, but did not make much of it. “After hearing about the incident with Kåra and hearing_ who _attacked her, I began to wonder. Could it be possible that the Void, which we know is some type of after life for many and as an entity, could it have possessed Morgane Kirkland?”_**

**_“Is it true?” Lukas blurted, excited. “Do you really have a captured vampire here?” Lady Guin smirked._ **

**_“We do, indeed; I captured him myself.” she answered, proudly. “He’s nearly ancient; he was a child in Shakespeare’s time. Isn’t that wild?”_ **

**_“Are you going to kill him?” Lukas asked._ **

**_“Eventually,” she answered. “Like I said, the London clan is research and study. We’ve weakened the vampire and we’ll soon begin…researching him.” I didn’t like the pause Lady Guinevere took between her words. It nearly sounded hesitated, as if she had to be careful with her word choice. It seemed suspicious._ **

**_We re-entered the hospital, the pungent smell of potions and urine greeting us as we walked down the corridor. Lady Guinevere opened the door to Mamma’s room and Aunt Jelena immediately stood up._ **

**_“And who are you?” Aunt Jelena hissed._ **

**_“Lady Guinevere,” Lady Guin replied, not shocked by Aunt Jelena’s brashness. “I just came here to return Arthur and…” She paused, scowling at Lukas. “This child.”_ **

**_“_ ** **Lukas _.” Lukas corrected, annoyed. Mamma sat up and sighed with relief._**

**_“I’m glad you two aren’t in some sort of trouble.” she said. Lady Guin stepped in front of me._ **

**_“Kåra, yes?” she asked. Mamma nodded, hesitant. “What can you tell me about Morgane Kirkland?”_ **

**_“I only met her when she was in spirit form,” Mamma replied, quietly. “But she seemed to be deeply disturbed.”_ **

**_“How competent was she?” Lady Guin questioned._ **

**_“Very much so.”_ **

**_“So you believe that she knew exactly what she was doing?”_ **

**_“Absolutely.”_ **

**_Lady Guinevere paused, taking a step forward closer to the foot of the bed. She wasn’t exactly the most terrifying woman, but just like everyone else, she had her glares of intimidation._ **

**_"If you feared her, why did you continue interactions with her?” Lady Guin asked. :You had a scarring incident with a previous ghoul; why did you let another one near your son?”_ **

**_“Because she had a_ ** **right _to speak with him. She gave birth to him, she gave him life. I wasn’t going to take that right away.” Mamma answered. “Lady Guinevere, I fail to see the point of these questions.”_**

**_“I’m investigating the possibility that it wasn’t actually Morgane Kirkland’s doing, but the Void’s doing instead.” Lady Guin clarified. “See, by the time of Morgane’s execution, she could barely recognize her first born, let alone her last born. The magic she had stolen from her three eldest boys drove her mad, and she could barely mutter a cohesive sentence. She urinated and defecate herself. Morgane Kirkland was a lunatic. And since spirits typically keep whatever last state they are in when they die, I highly doubt she would’ve been that competent to hunt down her son and attempt to kill his adoptive mother.” Mamma swallowed and kept her head hung low._ **

**_“So, you think that because Morgane stole magic and kept the power to herself, the Void took over her and was trying to cause a ruckus?” Mamma asked._ **

**_“Precisely.” Lady Guin responded. “Are you aware of what ghouls can turn into if we are not careful with them?”_ **

**_“That has never been proven true!” Aunt Jelena chimed in. “Enough of your bullshit, my Lady, and cure my sister!”_ **

**_“Jelena…” Mamma hushed._ **

**_“Honestly, considering your expertise, Jelena, we thought you would’ve helped her already.” Lady Guin snapped back. She turned around and glared right at Lukas. “I believe that every clan in the world must enforce every sorcerer and sorceress, no matter how old, to wear a pendant of some sort to protect their minds from the crying of the Lost Souls and the Void itself. We, Children of Magic, are most prone to their danger. So, why is this you boy without one?” Lady Guin’s tone was stern and angry. She scowled at Lukas as if she did not trust him at all._ **

**_“I do not hear the crying of the Lost Souls, my Lady.” Lukas answered. “They do not call to me.”_ **

**_“That does_ ** **not _mean you are not at risk.” Lady Guin said through gritted teeth. “Priestess Morgane did not wear a pendant for most of her life, and it is part of the reason why she descended into madness. Do you want to end up like her?”_**

**_“He is only eight!” Aunt Jelena spat._ **

**_“That’s not excuse! Lady Guin spat back. “I’ll have a pendant made for him at once._ **

**_“Mamma, you promised!” Lukas whined. “I don’t want a pendant!”_ **

**_“Sweetie, it won’t hurt, I promise you that.” Aunt Jelena replied, sweetly. “Whatever you want.”_ **

**_“But they do not call to me! I summon them if I wish!” Lukas shouted. Lady Guin’s eye twitched._ **

**_“A prodigy…that’s why you’re so smug.” She mumbled, turning to Aunt Jelena. “Put your son into place. You’ll regret it later if you don’t.” She spun back around, facing the door, and sighed. “If you wish to discuss this further, Kåra, feel free to ask for me. Now, if you excuse me, I must be going,” She opened the door and stepped into the hallway. “I’ve got a vampire to torture.”_ **

* * *

 

He wasn’t Lukas Bondevik anymore, he was something much more terrifying. Francis remembered seeing Lukas weeks ago and knowing he was human. Now, the Lukas before him was sociopathic, morbid and _disturbed_. The Norwegian now almost had a demon-like quality, a power Francis always felt about his father. Except this was worse. This entity before him was more powerful than Jacques, or at least when Francis knew Jacques.

“What do you need his blood for?” Francis asked, trying to keep his fear hidden.

“A true man never tells his secrets.” Lukas murmured.

“No, you’re going to tell me right now.” Francis yelled. “Are you sacrificing him? Are you some kind of…Norse god or something?”

“No; something greater.” Lukas replied.

“Greater? As in something higher than a demigod?”

“Much greater.” Francis paused, thinking.

“An actual god, then?” Lukas did not reply, he only stared back with a crooked smile.

“If that’s how you want to phrase it, sure, a god.” Lukas answered. Francis scowled at him in an attempt to hide his confusion over the situation. “As someone who isn’t a child of magic, you wouldn’t understand. I would not expect you to, anyway.”

“Do you mind explaining?” Francis asked, nicely. Lukas laughed, manically.

“Yes, I do mind.” he replied. He shoved his hands in his pockets, turned on his heel and began to walk towards the door. “If you excuse me, I must be going.”

“Like hell I’m going to let you leave here without explaining yourself!” Francis hollered, briskly walking around his desk to catch up to the other. Before he could put his hand onto his shoulder, Francis suddenly felt as if he could no longer move. Lukas let out another rumbling chuckle as he slowly turned around, his eyes black.

“You’re no match for me, vampire,” Lukas sand, tauntingly. “Should I even call you that? Because you and I both know you’re not a real vampire. You couldn’t even _kill_ your father, after what he did to you all those years.” Francis snarled.

“How the hell do you know that?” he growled. Lukas smirked.

“I know everything and I’ve seen everything. I know the rules of the universe and I know every creature that has roamed the universe.” He paused, putting a strong hand against Francis’ neck. “I’ve been trapped since the beginning, and I want _out_ , I want my _freedom_.”

“What are you?” Francis asked, his voice choked.

“Many religions have tried so hard to give me a name, to explain what I am; Hades, Pluto, Lucifer, Hel, the Void. There’s so many more but I’m afraid I’d bore you.” Lukas continued. “See, I hear nothing but screams, cries, whines and begs all day. I grew so bored and hungry that I began to _feed_ off of Spirits. It makes Them so sick in the mind, and I _love it._ But, one can only do so much, so I sought ways to get out from my cage.”

“W-why?”

“I crave something new, something different.” Lukas smirk widened into a sly, terrifying grin. “I crave _flesh_.”

“So, you’re a ghoul then?” Francis asked, gasping.

“Don’t put me in the same category as those _dimwits_.” he hissed. “They couldn’t possess a body properly if they tried.” His eyes widened and blood slowly began to drip from his eyelids. “I grow bored of you, hybrid. May I discard you?”

“One more que—“ Francis muttered. Before he had a chance to finish, he was tossed across the room and crashed against the desk and the wall. He didn’t scream, he refused to give this _best_ satisfaction of his fear. He sat himself up quietly as he watched Lukas exit the office. He stood up and grinded his teeth together as he bared his fangs. There was no way he would let Lukas escape without a fight.

* * *

 

The shackle was loose and close to breaking, but Arthur had no energy left. He was starving and his magic skills were of no use. Of _course_ Lukas owned a pair of chains and shackles that did not listen to the words of magic. Arthur was ready to give up; he was sweaty, covered in his own vomit, blood and piss. He was helpless, defenseless; there was absolutely nothing he could do.

Voices flooded his mind and They were the ones who kept him company. Per usual, they screamed, crying for help and for guidance. Some, however, screamed a new phrase that went against the natural rhythm of the usual chanting.

_He’s escaped, He’s awake, He will come for you. He’s escaped, He’s awake, He will come for you. He’s escaped._

“Who are you speaking of?” Arthur groaned, tilting his head back.

_The one who lies and deceits you._

“That could be anyone,” he added. “Stop speaking in riddles.”

_He’s escaped, He’s awake, He will come for you._

“Come on! What do you mean?”

_He will come for you. Run. Run as fast as you can._

“Who?!” Arthur screamed.

_The one who lies and deceits you. The one you call the Void._

Arthur froze, stiffening his muscles at the name the Voices cried out. “How could the Void possibly escape?” Arthur asked. “The Void is…nothing but a place, the underworld. Or the inbetween, rather.”

_It is a place, but also a being. An entity, a god. It does as It pleases, and He’s escaped._

“How? How did he so called, escape?”

_By a vessel, someone powerful enough to contain His soul._

Arthur closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Shit,” he hissed. “Lukas, why didn’t you listen to the warnings of the Priests?” he paused and tugged on his chans again.

_He will come for you_.

“What does he want from me, hmm? What could He possibly want with a vampire?” Arthur shouted.

_You carry the blood of his first vessel, Morgane…_

“Kirkland,” Arthur finished, groaning. “My _beloved_ mother. And I was her only son who carried magic. _Dammit_.”

_He draws near. You must run._

“Help me out of these bloody chains and you’ve got yourself a deal,” Arthur mumbled, leaning back. “But you can’t do a blasted thing, can you?” The Voices were quiet as Arthur rustled his feet. “How long has Lukas been gone, been possessed?”

_He’s only just escaped, but He’s prayed on Lukas for weeks. Months. Years._

“Will I be able to get Lukas back?” Arthur asked, swallowing the lump in his throat. He could feel the Voices’ hesitation.

_We do not know. He draws near. You must run._

Arthur shook his head, finally letting tears roll down his cheeks. How did all of this happen? Why had his life always been shit? First, he had a mentally disturbed mother who had been executed and later came back in Spirit to consume him. Then, he lived in an orphanage, where he had been hungry and deathly ill. The best thing that happened was when he was adopted and met Lukas. But that had gone to hell as well. Maybe Arthur wasn’t meant to be on this planet, and so life made sure he knew it. After all, he and Dylan weren’t planned at all. Arthur had no idea _how_ he’d even been conceived if his mother was deranged; what man would lie with a mentally ill woman?

Then there was his vampire issue. Francis was the second best thing in his life and Arthur knew he had fallen for the man. But his life with the charming Frenchman had been brief, possibly cut short. If the entity from the Void were successful in whatever plan it had, Arthur, Lukas and Francis would most likely end up dead. If they were lucky, that is. Arthur just wished he had a chance to say goodbye to the ones he loved most and apologize for all of the trouble he had caused for existing.

Suddenly, the Voices’ warnings vanished, and there was silence. Arthur heard the cellar door fling open followed by heavy footsteps plodding on the wooden steps in a limping rhythm. _This is it_ , Arthur thought to himself. _This is the end of it all._ He didn’t bother to sit up or hide the fact that he was terrified for what was to come. It would be over soon anyway. What was left for Arthur to care about?

Just as Arthur was ready to close his eyes and surrender, he was greeted by a familiar scent. He looked up quickly and gasped in surprise. “Francis?!” he whispered in disbelief. Francis flashed his usual smile.

“ _Bonjour_ ,” he replied. His face was bruised and scratched, his clothing torn and dirty. He slowly limped closer to Arthur, doing his best to hide the fact that he was in agonizing pain. “I’ve come to rescue my damsel in distress.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the update, as promised! I'm afraid there may not be anymore updates before I leave for Italy. And this won't be updated until August, most likely. I apologize to leave things in such a mess, but I promise when I get back I'll do my best to come to a close with things. I'd appreciate it if any of you can leave a comment or a critique! Or even with what you think is gonna happen next. Enjoy the chapter! 
> 
> ~Katelyn


	15. Strategy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha remember when I said I was going to update right after I got back from Italy? Which was like, back in the summer? Haha me either. 
> 
> Anyway, all joking aside, here is the new chapter of this shit storm of a fan fic. We are getting closer and closer to the end, I promise! Hopefully I can keep my promises to keep updating this fic. I told myself I wasn't just going to drop it, and I think I'm doing alright! But yeah, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Feel free to leave comments if you'd like! I appreciate them! 
> 
> I will also be trying to update my other fan fics this week or weekend as well. 
> 
> -Katelyn

_Years passed since my mother’s murder, and my life was completely controlled by Jacques. I was to study English when I was told, I was to eat real human food for practicing my disguise among humans, I was to eat_ real _food only when Jacques wasn’t greedy and shared his kill with me. I was to rest when I was told. I never left the mansion, for I would only terrorize the villagers if I got a whiff of human scent. I was miserable, I hated my life; I truly believed that I would be better off if I was dead._

_“Francis!” Jacques hollered from the other room. I shuffled out from the library and stood in the corridor leading to the front door. “I have some business to attend to in the village. I need you to lock yourself in your room so you don’t do anything stupid.”_

_“What stupid things do you think I would do?” I asked._

_“Don’t get smart with me; do as you’re told.” He hissed. He shrugged his coat on as he watched me make my way up the staircase. As soon as I reached the top, I heard the front door slam shut. I froze in my footsteps, peering around the corner._

_For once in my life, I had the house to myself._

_I immediately ran back down the steps and to the basement where my father stored his bottles upon bottles of blood. My meals had been meniscal in servings and I was practically on the verge of starving to death on a daily basis. However, with my father gone, I could indulge myself a little more._

_Rounding the corner from the staircase, I gazed at the rows of shelves as far as I could see in a dark and damp room. I plucked a bottle off of the shelf closest to the stairway, ripped the cork off and swallowed its contents nearly in one gulp. I never cared much for the taste of stored and aged blood, but vampires had to adapt in order to thrive. According to the stories my father told me, vampires were allowed to roam around were allowed to act like savages when humans lived in caves. But as humans became more civilized, so did the vampires. Humans grew clever and began hunting vampires in order to save themselves; in order to live on, vampires had to blend in and be more calculating. So, thus, vampires began saving theirs victim’s blood for later._

_I opened another a few other bottles and quickly it down. I discreetly hid the empty bottles with the others and rearranged the filled bottles so it would look like I had never disobeyed my father. As I walked back up the basement steps, I patted my stomach, feeling content. As soon as I closed my door behind me, there was a knock at the front door. My legs became stiff as I realized that I could be caught red handed for not obeying my father. Though, I hadn’t been in the basement for long and my father couldn’t have walked from the mansion to the village and back in that short amount of time._

_I gulped as I approached the door and opened it slightly, peeking through the crack to see who it was._

_“Ah,_ bonjour _, you’re Jacques’ son, yes?” It was the mailman who delivered Maman’s letter all those years ago. He hadn’t made his rounds since._

_“Yes, I am,” I answered. “And you’re Pierre, right?” The man nodded. “Why are you here?”_

_“I know he dislikes this, but your father has received some letters of importance. Since he is in charge of the village, I thought he might like to see them.” Pierre explained. “Is Jacques home?”_

_"You’ve missed him,” I replied. “He just left for the village.”_

_Pierre sighed. “I see,” he mumbled. “May I come in, then?” I stared at him, contemplating my consequences for letting a guest inside, and stepped aside to open the door further Pierre could step in. Once Pierre was inside, I gently shut the door and carefully looked over my shoulder. What business could he possibly want? “I don’t think I’ve ever stepped inside this mansion; you and your father are truly blessed with such wealth.” Pierre stated in awe as he gazed around. “Tell me, do you get to do fancy things like travel and see operas?”_

_“I’m not to leave the house,” I answered. “What do you want?” Pierre stared at me, blinking quickly at the harshness in my tone._

_"I will just set these letters here, is that alright?” he asked._

_“I just asked what you wanted,” I added. “I’m not Jacques, so please, don’t be afraid of me.” Pierre nodded as he took the letters out from his satchel and placed them on the small table next to the stair railing._

_“He keeps you locked up here, doesn’t he?” he asked further. “That’s unfortunate, because though we are terrified of him, the village is quite beautiful.” I pressed my lips together, thinking. “It’s not fair for a young man such as yourself to be locked up inside.”_

_"It’s for my own good,” I grumbled. “Or so he says.” Pierre frowned._

_“Remind me of your name again?”_

_“Francis.”_

_“Francis, that’s right. We haven’t received a letter from the address I gave you when we first met.” I stared at him wide eyed. “Did something happen”_

_"My Maman…she died.” I clarified. “_

_"By Jacques’ doing?”_

_I hesitated. “Sort of; he made me kill her. He said drinking my mother’s blood would make me stronger.” Pierre draped his cover for his satchel back over and took a deep breath._

_“You look very unhealthy, even for a vampire. So, your father abuses you, yes?” he asked._

_“He knows what’s best for me.” I replied, shrugging._

_"Do you know he abuses the villagers too?” Pierre continued. “He doesn’t allow us to trade with other villages and cities. No one is allowed to enter or leave. Our food only comes from our farms, which is fine, but our crops are becoming scarce. Buildings are falling apart. All of the money we raise for the town, he keeps for himself. We no longer exist on a map, and I am sure all of France has forgotten about us.”_

_“Why are you telling me this?” I began._

_“We need help, Francis, and you’re the only one who can face him.”_

_I stared at him; did he really have letters for my father or had he been waiting to talk to me for a long time? “I prefer to stay out of a coffin, thank you.” I muttered._

_“We can help you help us, but we need to come to an agreement.” I hesitated, looking down at my feet. “Would you like to know what the agreement would be?” I glanced up and gave a slight nod. “There are men lined up to be a sacrifice, as in, willing to let you feed or turn them if it helps you get your strength back.”_

_"No!” I shouted, stepping back. “I’m not killing anyone!” Pierre’s eyes widened as he shook his head in apology._

_“Sorry, sorry! But, Francis, you can’t deny your true nature. You’re a vampire; you are to kill for food and turn others you decide to spare.” Pierre said. “And if people offer themselves for a feed, what’s so wrong about it?”_

_"They don’t deserve to die!” I cried. “People shouldn’t die so I can satisfy my hunger.”_

_“You must be starving,” Pierre sighed. “Y-you’re not thinking straight. Look, what kind of vampire would decline a free, effortless feed?”_

_“One who’s half human.” I hissed, bearing my fangs. “I think you should leave, Pierre.” Pierre sighed once more, shaking his head. “If you don’t leave in the next minute…”_

_“Your father has never told you who I am, has he?” Pierre interrupted. “Before your father became the way he is today, he was a good friend of mine. We grew up together, in a different village of course. He then fell in love with this strange woman who had just moved into the village. She, as you probably already suspect, was the one who turned him. He was like you once, he refused to admit and embrace his new self. Soon, he grew so hungry that he could no longer control himself…so he feasted upon the entire village, since a famished vampire is a savage vampire,” I glared at him as he spoke, certain that he was lying through his teeth._

_“I was the one to witness it, and survive; he stopped as soon as I walked in on him sucking the life out of my sister. He stopped because I was his friend, and he began sobbing for what he had done to my family,” Pierre paused as he pulled down his shirt collar, revealing a small, subtle bite scar. I was shocked and in disbelief; how could I not have sensed he was a vampire?_

_"How old are you both?” I blurted. Pierre smiled sadly._

_“Too old, I’m afraid.” He answered, chuckling. “Listen, I’ve seen your father constantly deny his nature over the course of his life. If he had accepted it sooner, I believe he wouldn’t be the venomous villain he is today.”_

_"So wait, you knew my mother?” I asked._

_“I knew_ of _her; Jacques often travelled without me. He went from village to village; I’m assuming your mother wasn’t the first human he slept with and impregnated either.” Pierre rolled his eyes. “Jacques has always had some sort of charm with women; they just flock to him.”_

_“Let me guess, you embraced your true nature and turned out okay.” I mumbled._

_"Something like that; decided to feed off animals instead of humans. Perhaps there’s less evil in animal blood, but I think it has something to do with it.” Pierre replied. “I’m not sure if vampires are meant to be understood, but I know that not all of us vicious. Only those who do not embrace themselves become violent.”_

_“You think I’ll turn into my father.” I said, murmuring._

_"If you’re not careful, for one, but also if your father is deliberately abusing you and not feeding you…” His voice trailed off. “You don’t have long.” We stood in silence, staring at each other as the birds sang outside. He then flashed me a grin._

_“So, about that agreement?”_

* * *

 

“How the _fuck_ did you get here?” Arthur asked as Francis broke the chains. “There’s no way Lukas—“

“We don’t have much time, Arthur,” Francis quickly spat. “Lukas won’t be unconscious for long.”

“Wait, what? He’s unconscious” Arthur questioned. “What the hell happened?”

“He’s not Lukas anymore, he’s something else.” Francis clarified. The last shackle broke with ease and Francis pulled Arthur up. “He’s possessed…he’s some demon or ghoul or—“

“The Void.” Arthur mumbled. “The Void is using him as a vessel to…to destroy the world or whatever it is it wants to do. It’s been feeding off of him for years. I think the Void was after me, but I wear a pendant…Lukas refused to.”

“Well, we can’t take a trip down memory lane, we’ve got to move!” Francis scolded, carrying Arthur out of the cellar. “Can you walk?” he asked, setting Arthur down to his feet.

“We’ll find out, won’t we?” Arthur replied, stretching. Francis took Arthur’s hand and began dragging him along as he ran east. Normally, Francis would be concerned of the safety of the citizens in the village, but he feared for his and Arthur’s lives more. He knew that Lukas wouldn’t attack any of the villagers (unless someone deliberately got in his way), and that he was some sort of demon chasing them, hungry for flesh or blood. The only option for he and Arthur both was to run and seek a new, temporary shelter.

Soon, they left the forests reach and came upon a small farm. “What the hell are we doing, Francis?” Arthur hissed, limping along. “This is a death trap.”

“Or we are hiding in plain sight,” Francis replied, pulling Arthur’s hand. “Come on; a friend of mine lives here. He’ll help you recover from your starvation.” They hurried down to the farm and Francis pounded on the front door. The man who lived there opened the door immediately and stared at the two of them, confused. His eyes glanced over Arthur, who was absolutely filthy, and stepped aside.

“Come, come.” he said, waving the two inside. Francis pushed Arthur inside and the man slammed the door shut. The room inside was set up like a butcher shop, and the man rushed behind the meat counter, lifting up two rather large bags filled with blood. “Sit, sit!” the man said, pointing to the waiting area in the corner.

Arthur followed his instructions, giving Francis a confused glare. “Are we going to bother with introductions?” Arthur asked.  

“No,” the man answered quickly. He ripped open the first bag with his teeth and handed it to Arthur. “Drink.” Normally, Arthur would protest but he had been depleted of his own blood and he was famished; Arthur snatched the bag and began gulping as much as he could. Once the bag was sucked dry, Arthur dropped it on the floor, exchanging glances between Francis and his mysterious friend.

“So, this is the butcher you told me about?” Arthur questioned, not bothering to wipe the excess blood that was dripping from his mouth.

“Arthur, this is Pierre, an old friend of mine,” Francis explained. “His English is extremely limited, so please be patient with him.”

“I have no problem with anyone who hands me free food.” Arthur muttered. Pierre grinned and nodded.

“You must drink some more,” Pierre offered, opening the other bag. “Or you will lose your head.” Arthur eagerly took the bag from him and began drinking. Pierre turned to Francis and switched to speaking French. “Mind telling me what the fuck is going on?” he asked, his voice sounding stern.

“A wizard happened.” Francis answered. “Or something of the sorts. He has magic, hunts vampires and tried to ‘cure’ Arthur but slicing his writs open.” Pierre raised an eyebrow. “Look, we’re being chased by some demon; the man…is possessed.”

“When did you start believing in angels and demons?” Pierre asked, laughing.

“I don’t,” Francis snapped. “However, I do believe I have to believe in _something_ considering I witnessed my first victim standing before me in tears because she craved human flesh like me.” Pierre’s smile vanished as he crossed his arms, waiting for further explanation. “Look, Arthur has magic, so once he’s recovered, he can…”

“He needs to bather first,” Pierre sighed. “Before you two go anywhere, he needs a bath. I have never smelled someone reek as much as he does. And if you’re being chased, he’s leading it straight to us. He’ll need an herbal bath. Two, preferably.” Pierre paused, crinkling his nose. “You’ll need one too; his scent is all over you. I have clean clothes upstairs as well you two can borrow.”

“We’ve got no time, Pierre. This man is coming here as we speak and—“ Francis began.

“I’m going to fill the tub up for Arthur; you’ll refill the tub for yourself once he’s finished.” Pierre said, turning away. “Tell Arthur that he should come upstairs once he’s finished eating.”

* * *

 

_That night, my father decided to take rest once he was finished with whatever duties he had in the village. I had enough courage to sneak out of the mansion to meet with Pierre; I did the best I could to be quiet so I wouldn’t wake my father (he claimed that he heard everything no matter how small)._

_Pierre stood in an alleyway in the heart of the village, peering around the corner of the town hall. He grabbed my arm as I walked closer and pulled me into the shadows. “Did he notice?” he asked, whispering._

_“No.” I answered, looking over my shoulder. “Do you think I’d be here if he had?”_

_“Good, you need to meet the others.” he added._

_“The others?” I questioned._

_“Yes, the ones who are willing to sacrifice themselves to fight against Jacques.” he answered. “You can either feast or turn them into vampires, forming an army. It’s up to you.”_

_“I can’t kill anyone who’s innocent.” I hissed, following Pierre through several hidden streets and turns. Pierre chuckled._

_“Then forming an army it is.” he muttered to himself._

_“Wait a minute,” I said, pulling my arm away from Pierre. “If you’re a vampire, a strong and healthy at that, why haven’t_ you _formed an angry mob to fight against Jacques?” We stopped at a small house, hidden behind two tall buildings. Pierre sighed as he turned and put his hands in his pockets._

_"Jacques claimed me as his own when he spared me; instead of setting me free, he bounded me to my witness, to never tell a soul. For if I were to do so, I’d be committing an act of treason, which according to him, is punishable by death by his hand,” Pierre explained. “Your father feared that if he hadn’t made this pact, I would’ve gone and told the whole world of what he had become.”_

_“And so you’re too scared to betray him?” I asked._

_“Your father is a brutal man; if I betrayed him directly, he would be sure I endured a sufferable and torturous death. I don’t know about you, but I would prefer to die in a nicer manner.”_

_The door to the house swung open and a rather small, slender woman stood before us. She looked to Pierre and briefly glanced at me before stepping aside. She closed the door immediately after we had entered. “Is he the half breed?” she asked, cautiously look over her should as she locked the door. She held a candle in her other hand, which made her pale appearance even more ghostly._

_“Yes,” Pierre simply answered. “Where’re the others?”_

_“Downstairs; go down the hallway and turn to your right, there will be a staircase leading down to the cellar.” she replied. She glanced at me and nodded. “Pierre will show you the way, I won’t be too far behind you.”_

_Pierre tugged on my arm once again, leading me to the staircase the woman spoke of. We quickly rushed down the steps and rounded the corner to see a group of men crowded around a table. They all looked up and stared at me in fear, wide eyed and frozen in shock. Pierre stepped in front of me, clapping his hands together._

_“Everyone, I want you to meet Francis, Jacques’ son.” Pierre introduced._

_“The hybrid?” a red-haired man asked._

_“If you wish to call him that, sure.” Pierre clarified. The three men nodded to each other and stood up, adjusting their jackets. “Francis, I’d like you to meet the gang. This is Louis,” He nodded to the red-haired man. “And Theo,” A brown-haired, plump fellow. “And Camille.” A tall, awkwardly lanky man with a receding hairline._

_“Don’t forget Vivienne.” Louis said, quietly._

_"Vivienne a young girl, I don’t want anything happening to her.” Pierre sighed. There were small footsteps behind me and I felt a hand touch my shoulder lightly._

_“I’m not a young girl,” Vivienne snapped. “I’m nearly twenty, I’m old enough to own this damn house. I’m an adult.”_

_“I’m not turning her,” I muttered. Everyone in the room glared at me, making the room turn from the cozy welcoming feel to an icy glacier. “I’ve already killed two women in my life, so I’m not putting another one at risk.” I turned to face Vivienne. “I hardly know you, but I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Vivienne.”_

_Vivienne rolled her eyes and pushed me aside. “Your father_ killed _my entire family; my father apparently wasn’t doing what he was told, so he decapitated him in front of my brother and sister. He then raped my mother, bit her neck so hard that she bled to death in seconds,” she said, standing in front of me. “He drank her blood, moving on to my sister and finally my brother. Before he could kill me, Pierre stopped him, saving my life.” A small grin grew over her lips. “I owe Pierre my life, and I’m avenging my family’s death. You_ will _turn me.”_

_“Pierre, what’s the plan?” I asked, ignoring Vivienne. Pierre sighed and remained silent, knowing that Vivienne was livid._

_“Look,_ half breed _, this is_ my _plan. I’ve been telling Pierre here for years on end that I wanted a way to kill Jacques for what he did. The man is a savage, and he needs to pay! So, if you want to talk to me about the plan, you have to talk to_ me _.” Vivienne clarified, sassily. She turned away to stand with the three men. “You either turn me or you remain a sad, broken half breed who’s abused by his Papa.”_

_“Stop calling me a half breed!” I shouted. “You’re not fit to fight against my father. You’re blinded by revenge, and you’ll take the wrong moment to kill him and get yourself murdered. You’re just like me, a pitiful young adult, and Jacques will rip you limb from limb, sucking your bones dry. Believe me and let me spare you.” Vivienne glared at me as if she was killing me in her own imagination. “If you want to be a vampire so bad, ask Pierre to turn you!”_

_“Jacques will know that I’ve turned someone just so that they will kill him.” Pierre reiterated._

_“So it’s okay that I turn someone to kill him?!” I yelled._

_“Yes, actually, because you don’t hold a pact with your father. It’s been proven since he hasn’t come for you yet.” Pierre replied. “Pacts are a tricky thing to understand…”_

_“Fine,” I grumbled. I ran my hands through my oily hair and groaned. “I can’t do this; it’s too dangerous for everyone in the village. You don’t know how powerful Jacques is.” The three men sighed loudly as Vivienne grabbed my shirt collar and pulled me close to her._

_“Do you really want to live your live as the cowardly little vampire? Is that what you want, Francis?” she hissed. Her eyes were a bright blue, the shade that reminded me of a clear sky, her skin was smooth and clear except for the stray freckle that was beside her lips, and her breath smelled of milk; she was a beautiful woman, and a strong one at that. “Answer me, hybrid.”_

_“I’m not a coward.” I said through gritted teeth._

_“Then_ fight _.” Vivienne said, pushing me forcefully. “Fight alongside your brethren. You’re a victim like us, so follow through and fight against Jacques.” She turned to the others and nodded. “We give you the choice to either feed or turn us into your own; if you feed, promise that you will stop Jacques with your own hands.”_

_“Or die trying.” Theo chimed in. Vivienne laughed._

_“That’s right, or die trying.” she repeated, mockingly. I stared at the five of them, pressing my lips together; being in a roomful of four humans with an empty stomach was beginning to overwhelm me.  My mouth began to water at the thought of tasting fresh blood in what felt like eternity. Pierre stepped between me and the group, gently placing his hands on my shoulders and smiled._

_“Whatever you decide, it must be done quickly; I can sense that you are hungry. Don’t give into your monstrous side, Francis; be better than your father.” he said softly. I slowly nodded, eying Vivienne. She stared back, smirking smugly. I leaned closer to Pierre so that my words would only reach him._

_"If it seems that I am going to suck them dry,” I whispered. “Stop me.”_

_“I promise.” Pierre agreed, stepping aside. I glared at Vivienne as I approached her, an evil grin twitching at the corner of my lips._

_“I hope you can deal with pain,” I muttered, pulling down the collar of her dress. “Because this going to hurt.”_

* * *

 

“I’m not a child, Francis; I can bathe myself!” Arthur groaned, trying to snatch the wash cloth away. Francis pulled back and sighed; the pride of a man was often too stubborn to break just for a moment.

“You’re still exhausted and wounded, Arthur. You need to rest and recover.” Francis replied. “Try to relax and enjoy the bath.”

“This is bloody embarrassing! I’m a grown man! Let me take care of myself!” Arthur snapped.

“You’ve just been tortured!! Look, your arms are sliced open!” Francis snapped back. “You may be a grown man, but you are in no means in good shape to bathe yourself!”

“Shh!!” Pierre hissed, peering around the door. “If you’re being chased, then you must be quiet!” he added, in French.

“ _Oui_ ,” Francis grumbled. “Sorry.”

“What did he say?” Arthur demanded.

“Be quiet,” Francis whispered. “Or you’ll lead Lukas here.” Arthur frowned and sunk further into the bathtub, letting the bathwater cover his mouth. “You’re still upset, aren’t you?”

“Or course I am!” Arthur said, blowing a few bubbles in the water as he spoke. “My cousin is possessed by a powerful entity! An entity that was supposed to come for me instead!”

“Don’t blame yourself, Arthur,” Francis said, carefully running his hands through Arthur’s hair to get the soap in. Arthur closed his eyes in relaxation; he always relaxed whenever Francis ran his fingers through his hair. “None of this is your fault.” Francis added as he slowly pushed Arthur down into the water so he could rinse his hair. He pulled him back up and Arthur coughed as he leaned back.

“I’m still starving,” Arthur mumbled. “Why am I so hungry?”

“Pierre has an endless supply of animal blood in his cellar, I’m sure he’ll give you some fill when this bath is finished.” Francis replied, kissing Arthur’s forehead. “Alright, stand up, _amour_ ; let’s get you dry.” Arthur slowly pushed himself up and climbed out of the tub. As he dried himself, Pierre rushed in, holding a candle and closed the door.

“Excuse me…!” Arthur protested.

“Shh!” Pierre hushed. He turned to Francis, panicked. “He is here!”

“ _Quoi?!_ ” Francis gasped.

“He’s here, the man who’s chasing you. He stands off in the distance.” Pierre clarified. “I know he has seen me, I know he knows you both are here, but he is patient. He hasn’t moved a bit.”

“What’s going on?!” Arthur asked, loudly. Francis opened his mouth to explain but Pierre shook his head.

“No, don’t tell him; he still hasn’t recovered and will panic,” Pierre said. “Look, I’m willing to be a decoy if you promise me you’ll flee the country.”

“I refuse to leave you behind, Pierre.” Francis muttered.

“I will be fine; I’ve lived a long life and if I die, then I am okay.” He sighed. “Promise.”

“Does someone mind telling me what’s going on?!” Arthur demanded.

“Shhh!!” Both Francis and Pierre hushed. Arthur groaned and threw up his hands into the air.

“Francis, I’m afraid that this man, creature, demon is on our doorstep. He’s breathing down our necks. You need to take a quick bath and take Arthur out of this country.” Pierre continued.

“Where would we go?” Francis asked, narrowing his eyes. Pierre shrugged.

“France? You’ve been living here for how long now? Too long, I’ll say.” he said. “Go home, Francis; no one will know who you are or who your father was. Now, take your bath; I’ll help Arthur get dressed and give him more blood so that he may survive the night without any violent cravings.” Francis nodded as Pierre waved, telling Arthur to follow him.

“I can dress myself, thank you.” Arthur muttered as Pierre held out clean trousers. Pierre chuckled when Arthur snatched the trousers away from him. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”

“Demon is here.” Pierre said, bluntly as his broken English could allow.

“Lukas? He’s found us?!” Arthur said, quickly. “Where? Where is he? I have to help him!”

“Slow down.” Pierre sighed, putting his hands on Arthur’s shoulders. “First, you dress. Then, you eat. And _then_ , you run.”

“Do you really think he will wait that long? Do you even understand what’s going on?!” Arthur spat. “Lukas, my cousin and an extraordinary sorcerer, is possessed by the Void.”

“Void?” Pierre repeated, buttoning a shirt on Arthur.

“Yes, the Void. Maybe you’re more familiar with the term Devil?”

“Mm-hm,” Pierre sighed; he honestly couldn’t care less. “I have lived for long, I do not believe in silly things.”

“Well, you should!” Arthur shouted. “You should never question anything in this world; stories aren’t repeated for nothing.” Arthur stepped away from Pierre and headed for the door.

“You must eat, Monsieur.” Pierre suggested, gently.

“Monsieur?!”

“Apologies, _sir_.”

“Look, we don’t have time to stay here. We’ve got to run…”

“And be killed. In here, we can plan.” Pierre interrupted. “In here, we prepare. In here, we fight.” Arthur shook his head.

“There’s no fighting the Void; he only wants what he wants.” he sighed.

“And that is?”

“My surrender.” Arthur declared.

“I forbid it!” Francis shouted back, stepping into the room in only a towel. “If you surrender, I surrender as well.”

“This is _my_ fight,” Arthur said. “And I’m not going to let you get involved in my battles. The Void is after me and if he wants me blood, then I’m ready to end this.” Francis scowled.

“If you surrender, do you think he’ll stop at you?” he asked. “Or do you think he will continue to feed and feed and feed until there’s nothing left on this earth?” Arthur crossed his arms, pressing his lips together in silent frustration. “Lukas tortured you, do you _really_ think you can fight in this condition? Alone?” Arthur remained silent. “Pierre has offered to—“

“Shh!!” Pierre hushed. “We should not repeat ourselves; he may be listening. We move fast and quietly.” Francis and Arthur glanced at each other, nodding slowly in agreement. Their only option was to run like cowards.

* * *

 

_Don’t show fear,_ They cried. _Or He will be sure you no longer exist in this world._

Lukas hadn’t a clue where he was; he was surrounded by Spirits who pushed past him, giving him mournful glances. Yes, he was afraid, yes, he was most _certainly_ afraid. Never in his life had he heard the Voices’ cries and please. He had never been trapped in the Void before, he had never been possessed. Lukas felt as if he were frozen, for he could not move his legs.

_Do not show fear, or He will consume you._

“Tell me,” Lukas said, calmly. “Where am I?”

_Where the Spirits roam. The Prison in which He traps us so He can take pleasure._

“Whom do you speak of?” Lukas interrogated.

_The One you call the Void._

Before Lukas could reply, he felt a terrible presence lingering around him. “Oh Lukas, my child, why do you speak to Them? Those _imbeciles_?” Lukas glanced up to see the image of Morgane Kirkland standing before him.

_Do not show fear_.

“Where am I?” Lukas asked. Morgane smirked.

“Did I say you could speak?” she asked.

“When one asks a question, it is normal to—“ Lukas began.

“Do you know the story of the first vampire’s birth?” Morgane asked. She tilted her head to the side as if she were a curious bird staring at its prey. Lukas avoided eye contact, keeping silent. “Do you wish to hear?” She continued to tilt her head further, making it look as if her neck were to snap, and her eyes were wide with excitement. “The first vampire was like me; he was the guardian of the dead, he preyed on the Spirits and began to crave more. So he possessed an eligible body and was free to roam the earth.”

“Is it true?” Lukas asked.

“You tell me.” Morgane replied.

“There’s a fib in every story.” Morgane cackled as she leaned back on her heels before walking around Lukas. “Is it true, Morgane?”

“My name isn’t Morgane; she was my first vessel, so I keep her image close to me,” she continued. “Poor woman; she really was beautiful. Too bad she was a disaster waiting to happen anyway.” She grinned. “I suppose I look a little dated, considering she’s long gone from reality. Perhaps I should show you my new image.” Lukas heard heavy footsteps walk around him and then stared face to face with his reflection. “Pretty neat, right? You’re my new vessel!!”

_Don’t show fear. He will consume you._

“What’s this? Little Norwegian isn’t impressed? That’s strange, because I would think he’d want his body back.” The Void mocked.

“Tell me more of your story, Void. You said there was one before you; what happened?” Lukas questioned. The Void chuckled.

“He died when the London clan captured and tortured him,” he explained. “Funny how that works.”

“But you…you’ve always been there. So…” Lukas began, trying to put the pieces together.

“When he left, I was born; there always must be a being in existence,” the Void clarified. “I believe this is the life cycle of my kind. When I am free from this place, another will take my place. It’s like a monarchy.”

“It is _nothing_ like a monarchy, it’s more like incarnations.” Lukas replied. “Why do you want to leave your job? It’s what you were created for, after all.”

“Think about it Lukas; I hear whines all day. Would you want to hear screaming and crying all the days of your life?” the Void asked. “That’s why I chose you, because you don’t hear them,” He stepped closer so that he was millimeters away from Lukas. “I would’ve chosen Morgane’s son but he wears a pendent, plus, he is weak.”

“And he’s already a vampire,” Lukas chimed in. “I think that is a crucial pin point that destroyed your plan.” The Void chuckled.

“I grow bored of this conversation,” he muttered, grabbing Lukas by the shoulders and pressing his forehead against Lukas’. “Become with me, Lukas; together we can rule the world.” Lukas stepped back, attempting to turn away, but the Void grabbed him and spun him around. “Did you think you can escape, Lukas? Oh my, silly little Norwegian!” Though Lukas did his best to avoid eye contact, the Void held onto his head and continued to press his forehead against him until Lukas looked. Lukas cringed, a piercing ringing buzzing in his head; he then let out a scream and fell on his knees.

“You are a part of me and I a part of you; we are one, Lukas,” the Void chanted as Lukas collapsed.

“We are One.”


End file.
